Bone Magic (Otherworld/Sisters of the Moon #7) 0

Weary, I glanced at the others. “Okay, we’ll leave shortly after sundown, as soon as Menolly wakes up. I’m hoping we’ll be back before the Moon Mother goes ripe, but I have a feeling we may not be, so tell Menolly to take the next couple of nights off and stay home because you’ll be out catting around in your tabby form. There’s no getting around the pull of the moon on us.” I glanced over at Morio, tired and sleepy. “We’d better get changed and pull together our packs. I’d like to get in a short nap before we head out.”

As we stood, Vanzir returned. His subdued look worried me. Something was up. Iris noticed it, too.

“What’s going on?” she asked. “Was Carter able to tell you anything?”

He nodded. “Yeah, he managed to dig up a little more on her, but I guarantee you, you don’t want to hear it. The information was hidden between the lines in her dossier. Shadow Wing’s kept a tight wrap on her history because she’s one of his generals, but Carter found what we’re looking for, all right. The bitch is a necromancer.”

“A necromancer?” I blinked, resisting the urge to just fall on the sofa in a stupor. “Motherfucking son of a bitch. No wonder we’ve had such a problem with creatures coming in from the Netherworld.”

This was not good. So not good. Toss in the fact that she was a demon general meant Stacia wouldn’t be just any ordinary bring-out-your-dead warped puppy. No, she’d be packing one hell of an arsenal in terms of spells and firepower, and could probably wipe out Morio and me with one easy conjuration.

“What the hell do we do now?” Roz leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands. “This is bad news. I wish Smoky was around.”

“Should we still go?” I turned to Morio. “This puts a different spin on things.”

“You have to—Trillian’s waiting for you,” Delilah said. “And it will only be for a couple of days. We’ve been hunting for Stacia for weeks now. Two or three days aren’t going to make any difference.”

“I hope you’re right.” I hesitated, then looked at Iris. “What do you think? Your instincts are usually right on the nose.”

Iris pursed her lips together and motioned for us to be quiet. She sat down on the edge of the ottoman and I could tell she was drifting into a trance. As the Talon-haltija sank lower into her meditation, the ebb and flow of her aura beckoned me in and I hesitantly reached out to touch her energy with my own.

The moment our energies met, she gasped and yanked me into her world.

We were standing in the snows, high on a mountainside, in the middle of a snowstorm. Iris was bundled in a long, thick coat that was midnight blue, her hair hidden beneath the fur-trimmed hood. In the center of her forehead, a brilliant cobalt star glistened—whether it was inset or affixed, I didn’t know, but it gleamed with power, pulsing gently to her heartbeat.

She raised her eyes to meet mine and I found myself gazing into a swirl of mist and fog and ice. Iris’s power came sweeping over me, knocking me to my knees. I dropped into the packed snow. It was wet, dense, and would harden to ice before long. Soaked through to the skin, I couldn’t take my eyes off the woman who was suddenly much more than a sprite.

Iris held out her hands, and in the palms rested a crystal ball, the color of blue topaz. Aqualine, the crystal she’d asked for from Otherworld. As I struggled to stand, she cupped her fingers around it and closed her eyes, murmuring something under her breath that I couldn’t catch.

At that moment, a great shadow began to cover the mountain, creeping like inky fingers across the snow-blanketed landscape. The shadow clouded my vision and something told me to run from it, but I couldn’t move. As it approached the outskirts of where we were standing, Iris’s eyes flew open again and she raised one hand toward the approaching murk.

“Pysäyttää!” Her voice was strong and clear and the shadow stopped where it was. Iris stepped forward and her words thundered through the snow. “Retreat. Return to your cavern, creature of the dark. It is not yet our hour to meet.”

As I watched, the shadow slowly began to retreat, a long, fluttering sigh lingering as it rolled back up the mountain. I turned to ask Iris what was going on but she was focused on the crystal ball again, and then, as big fat snowflakes began to fall in earnest, I blinked and found myself back in the living room, lying on the sofa.

“Camille, are you all right?” Delilah was leaning over me as I struggled to sit up. “You fainted.”

I swung my feet onto the floor and scooted forward, looking for Iris. She was still sitting on the ottoman, eyes closed, but as I watched her she stirred and stretched, yawning. She gave me a long look, pleading for my silence. What had happened out there—wherever we were—she wanted to keep secret for now.

“I’m fine,” I said. Iris was our friend and if she wanted to keep this quiet, then I’d play along, unless it looked like it was going to affect us or the war against the demons. “I guess I’m just tired. Iris, what did you see?”

A look of relief swept over the Talon-haltija’s face and she smoothed the skirt of her dress. “We must go. There are things afoot in Otherworld that will have an impact on what we’re doing here. We need to bring Trillian back—we can’t afford to lose him. And . . . there’s something waiting for you in OW, Camille. For both you and Morio. You must make this journey. Major changes are afoot and we’ll all be caught up in them.”

“I guess that answers that,” I said. “All right, we’ll leave after we talk to Menolly. Delilah, can you fix dinner? The three of us should rest if we’re jumping portals tonight.”

Delilah nodded, helping me up. As Morio and I climbed the stairs to take a nap, I couldn’t help but think about the shadow that had come racing after Iris and me. But had it really been after me? When I really thought about it, I sensed the creature had been aiming directly for Iris. And what was it she’d said? “Retreat. Return to your cavern, creature of the dark. It is not yet our hour to meet.”

What did it want with her? And why did I have the feeling she’d already met the creature? Trying to push thoughts of the Bonecrusher, and of the shadow on the mountain to the side, I focused on Trillian. He was coming home, he was coming back to me. But through the joy, a little voice inside began to whisper doubts. What if he freaked when he found out I’d married both Morio and Smoky? What would he do? And what would I do if he decided he didn’t want to put up with the situation?

Unable to shake my worries, I set the alarm for just after sunset and climbed into bed. Morio seemed to sense my discomfort and slid his arms around me, holding me gently as we both drifted off to sleep.

CHAPTER 8

“Camille, Morio? Time to get up.” Her voice was soft, almost a hiss in the dim light of my bedroom.

I blinked and opened my eyes to find Menolly leaning over me, a toothy grin on her face. A couple tiny drops of blood on her chin told me she’d had her nightly drink and I smelled chicken soup on her breath.

Morio had left several charmed bottles of blood in the fridge for her to drink while we were gone. Though she never asked, he went out of his way to make sure she had a variety of choices available, giving her a break from the unending taste of blood on her tongue. Through some sort of illusion/ alchemical magic, Morio had managed to alter the structure of the taste.

He’d even managed a good substitute for pizza. I knew, because I’d tasted a few drops, wondering if Menolly had just forgotten what food tasted like or if he’d really discovered a talent for blood cuisine. It gave me a weird sense of relief. If it ever came to it—being a vampire with Morio around wouldn’t be quite so bad.

She backed away as I slid from beneath the covers. I was naked, but she’d seen my goodies before. Morio yawned and pushed himself up to lean against the headboard as I stretched. Even though we’d only slept for about three hours, the nap had done me a world of good.

I scratched my stomach and sniffed the air. “Delilah cooking dinner?”

Menolly grinned. “Nope. Roz is.”

“Roz? I didn’t know he knew which end was which on a skillet.”

“Apparently so, or it looks that way to me. He’s frying up some sausage links and eggs, and has Vanzir making fruit cups and toast. Iris stumbled in on them, offered to help, and they chased her out of the kitchen. I will grant you this: The boys come through when we need them,” she said, her fangs beginning to recede.

“That they do,” I murmured. I picked up a towel and slung it over my shoulder. “I need to hit the shower. Can you hunt through the closet and lay out my traveling clothes?”

Menolly nodded. “Yes, but Camille . . . please, be careful. I have a feeling something could go horribly wrong over there, and you know that I’m not prone to premonitions.” She sat on the bed, glancing at Morio as he slipped from beneath the covers—naked as a jaybird and standing full at attention. “Down boy, unless you’re pointing that thing Camille’s way. Don’t wave your freak flag in my face.”

I snorted. “Don’t worry. I’m happy to say he always wakes up bright and perky like that.”

“I bet you are,” she countered with a laugh. “Get in the shower, both of you, and I’ll lay out your things. Morio, I assume that your clothes are in one of these dresser drawers around here?”

“I’ll be wearing jeans and a sweater,” he said, blowing her an air kiss as he wandered past and joined me on the way to the bathroom.

Once I had the water running full tilt, we climbed in and quickly lathered up. Morio reached around from behind me, soaping my breasts and belly. His hair fell forward, tickling my shoulders. He let out a low grunt and slid his fingers down my stomach to rest against my clit. I moaned, leaning back against him.

“Do we have time?” I asked.

“We always have time,” he said, then quick as heat lightning, stroked me with that featherlight touch that sent me into orbit every time. “Besides, it may be a few days before we can find privacy for this again.”

I moaned softly and spread my legs, and he slipped deep into my pussy from behind, his cock slick from the soap and water, his girth widening me with a delicious stretch. He reached around to finger me with one hand, and with the other, caressed my breasts.

I braced myself against the wall of the tub, making sure my footing was steady, as he began to thrust, taking long, smooth strokes that kindled the fire growing in my belly. The shower rained down on us like a waterfall and the drops trickled between my breasts, trailing down to where his hands played against my skin.

Pulling away, I stepped out of the tub, Morio following. He grabbed me and shoved me against the wall, rattling the shelves as he forced his knee between my legs. His hands traveled over my breasts, my belly, and he buried his face in my neck, nuzzling, nipping, sucking deeply. I knew he was leaving marks, but we always played rough.

“Fuck me,” he said with a low growl. “Let me inside you.”

I broke away and grabbed a bath sheet, throwing it over the mat on the floor, which was plush and thick. Morio lay down, quick as a fox.

“Come to me,” he said, a willful smile curling the edge of his lip. “Come with me, Camille. Ride me.”

I obeyed, straddling him, sinking down on his cock as he thrust upward to meet me, his hands gripping my waist.

“Touch yourself,” he whispered hoarsely, and so I did, sliding two fingers down to stroke myself gently while I cupped my breast with the other hand and squeezed hard. I leaned back, reveling in the fire raging between us, in the feel of Morio watching me with an eager glint.

He tightened his grip on my waist, then flipped me over and as I rolled beneath him, his breathing grew harder and his eyes took on the edge that I recognized so well by now. As he hovered over me, trapping me between his knees, he began to change and grow.

In his full demon form, Morio was eight feet tall, and his face lengthened into a muzzle. He was also as flexible as a gymnast. I found myself staring into the eyes of my demon fox man. His arms and legs took on thick waving fur, and black taloned claws replaced black nails.

As my lover shifted form, my hunger for him increased. When we were alone, we didn’t play easy unless the mood called for it. No, he was demon and demon he acted. He leaned his head back and let out a yip of lust and joy and I grinned, delighted, at him.

“Come on, take me, show me how much you want me,” I dared him.

“Never start anything you aren’t willing to finish,” he said. And then he grabbed my wrists, bruising them gently as he pressed them against the floor above my head. A knot flared in my stomach as he held me fast and spread my legs wide with his knees as he forced his way between them.

“Tell me what to do,” I whispered.

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he ordered, and I whimpered as he let out a guttural sound from the back of his throat. I entwined my legs around his stomach, and his cock hovered inches away from me, fully erect and smooth.

“You want me?” he said, leaning down to nip at my breast. I caught my breath as he demanded again, “Do you want me?”

“Yes, oh yes, please.” I couldn’t stand it anymore. His energy flared, reaching out with long tendrils to tease me on. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.

“What do you want me to do to you?”

My heart racing, I let out a long sob. “Fuck me, fuck me hard.”

“Ask politely,” he said, playing me like a fine-tuned violin.

“Please, will you please fuck me?” I squirmed under his hold; the only thing I could think about was how much I wanted him to screw my brains out.