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And saw the sky crack open.
Not with lightning, or thunder, or anything else that would have made sense. But slashed. As if a giant talon had caught the edge and ripped its way across the stars.
It was about the time the storm swept over the landscape, gobbling up the hill, the dancers and the bonfire. And then heading straight for us.
“I think…I think she found us,” I gasped, only to have Louis-Cesare grip my face, turn it to his.
“No!” Blue eyes locked with mine. “See me, see me.”
And he kissed me, even as we were plunged into a torrent of slapping wind and wailing outrage. And it was a damned good kiss. My stomach did a weird, tilting cartwheel, my hands tightened reflexively on his shoulders, and one of my legs went around him, pulling him to me, in me, as what sounded like a thousand banshees wailed by overhead.
I barely heard them. If falling into the moment helped us to gray out, then we must be almost invisible, I thought, as he growled and covered me with his body. Taking me as he’d stripped off the glove earlier, smooth and sure, in one long thrust.
It hurt, to be stretched so abruptly, filled so completely. But the sheer animal satisfaction I took was greater. This was mine, the hard body above me, the sweetness on my tongue, the hands bruising my hips. And I met him stroke for stroke, arching up as he flexed into me, in deep, powerful motions that sparked coiling warmth in my gut, melted my spine.
Mine, I thought deliriously, as a shadow swept over us, like a cape had been thrown over the sky.
Mine, as my hands stroked up that strong back, velvety and warm, where every dip and line of muscle fit sweetly into my palms.
Mine, as the storm trembled in the air around us, and shook the earth beneath us.
“Mine,” I murmured, as blue eyes met mine, wide and startled. And then closed again as he took my breath in a kiss so consuming that I barely noticed when the storm continued on toward the horizon, the midnight wings showing vague starlight through in patches as it passed overhead.
As it missed us.
“Yours,” Louis-Cesare groaned, pushing his face into the crook of my neck as his movements turned erratic inside me, as my body clenched around him, as the storm banked and turned, like some great bird, somehow zeroing in on our location despite everything.
And then the hill cracked open, the earth fell away beneath us, and we were falling.
Chapter Thirty-eight
I landed on my own, Louis-Cesare being torn away in the plummet. And I landed hard. I slammed into what felt like concrete, only to hear the pop and feel the sandpaper grind of bone on bone beneath me.
It was my hand. And of course, it was the right one. Not that it mattered, since I wasn’t being given a chance to go on the attack anyway.
A blow caught me as I tried to rise, and a kick to my ribs had me retching. And then that damned boot was back, visible for a split second before making contact with my skull. The impact was hard enough to send me tumbling, and instinct had me putting out my injured hand to break my fall.
Not the best idea, I realized, as a sickening wave of pain hit me.
Come on. You’re better than this! I told myself harshly, as I stumbled trying to rise. But I didn’t appear to be listening. Maybe because something, either the crack to the head or the mental powers I was really starting to envy, was adding another layer of hell to the fight. Suddenly, even blinking took an effort, and anything more ambitious felt like I had a two-hundred-pound weight attached to every limb.
Unfortunately, my assailant didn’t seem to have that problem. She was kicking me over and over in the ribs, in almost the same spot, because I was too winded and in too much pain to move out of the way fast enough. Not good, I thought, as the stabbing pain of a broken rib suddenly cut into my side.
I snarled and kicked out with a foot, catching what felt like the softness of a stomach. But it bought me maybe a second at best, which wasn’t even enough to get back on my feet. And then another rib went, and another, and I lashed out again—blindly, because I couldn’t see a damned thing. The darkness was complete, as much as if I really had fallen into a pit in the earth, and the only things I saw were the stars exploding behind my eyes.
Until a single spear of light shot through the darkness.
It was tiny, like the glow of a very dim flashlight, but I started crawling toward it anyway. Until a hard kick to my chin had me flipping over, and another destroyed a kneecap. And if I hadn’t managed to roll to the side, the boot that stabbed down where my chest had been might have killed me.
Although that outcome was looking pretty inevitable right now anyway. Because I just plain couldn’t move fast enough to avoid the blows that were quickly beating me to a pulp. I cried out again, in pain and sheer fury—
And the pinprick of light turned into a flood.
I blinked, barely able to see past the glow, but managed to make out the figure of a man. “Louis—” I began thickly, reaching out—
But it wasn’t.
The dark silhouette was tall but not that tall, broad but not that broad, familiar…and even more familiar. Dark hair, dark suit, but eyes that were glowing even brighter than the illumination behind him. Like twin stars in the gloom, brighter than I’d ever seen them.
