Chapter 35
I needed to be alone to prepare myself for the ritual. Doyle hadn't liked me being on my own for even a little while, but we'd extended the house wards across the back wall to the small neglected garden of the house behind us. Neglected was good in this case because it meant that no pesticides or herbicides had been used in a very long time. We'd put up a ritual circle earlier in the day. I opened a doorway in that circle, stepped through, and closed it behind me. Now I stood not just in the wards of the house but in a circle of protection. Nothing magical could cross this circle, nothing less than a deity or the Nameless itself. The hungry ones that were slaughtering people would have been stopped by it; they weren't deities yet.
The yard had been planted within an inch of its life like most yards in Southern California. It was an abandoned lemon tree grove, now. The small trees were covered in dark green leaves. It was too late in the season for blossoms. I mourned that. But the moment I walked between the close crowding trees and the dry, crumbling grass and leaves underfoot, I knew this was it. The trees whispered among themselves like elderly ladies talking of the past softly with their heads close together in the warm, warm sun. The eucalyptus that lined the street just outside the garden wall was a heavy spicy scent that rode the air to mingle with the smell of the warm lemon trees.
A large cotton blanket lay on the ground, waiting. Maeve had offered to bring silk sheets, but all we needed was something of the earth, animal or vegetable. Something thick enough to cover the unyielding ground but not thick enough to separate us from it. We still needed to be able to feel the earth under our bodies.
I lay down on the blanket as if I was going to sunbathe. I pressed myself to the blanket, arms and legs wide, letting myself sink into the soft fuzz of the blanket, then past it to the coverings of the grass, leaves, and sticks, a covering of small sharp things, and farther still to the hard-packed earth beneath. There was water here or the lemon trees would have withered and died, but the ground seemed bone dry as if it never felt the touch of rain.
Wind caressed my body, drew me back. The wind played against my skin, rustled the dry leaves and weeds outside the edge of the blanket. The leaves whispered and shushed together. The smell of eucalyptus coated everything with its warm, pine-wood scent.
I rolled onto my back so I could watch the trees moving in the wind, feel the heat of the sun on the front of my body. I don't know if I heard a noise or just felt him standing there. I turned my head, my cheek lying on a bed of my own hair, and there he was.
Galen stood lost in the tossing green of the leaves and the small whispering trees. His hair lifted in a halo of green curls around his face. That one thin braid that was all that was left of his long, long hair trailed over his bare chest.
As he stepped out of the trees I could see that he wore nothing. His skin was a flawless white with a shade of green to it like the gleaming underside of a seashell. His waist looked longer without clothes, a slender expanse of flesh and bone leading up to the swell of his shoulders, and down to the slenderness of his hips. He was bigger than I'd thought he would be, longer, thick, growing as I watched, as if he felt my gaze travel down his body. His legs were long and muscled as he moved toward me.
I think I stopped breathing for a second or two. I hadn't really believed that he would come. I had grown tired of hoping. Now, here he was.
I raised my eyes to his face and found his smile. Galen's smile, the one that had made my heart skip a beat since I was old enough to care. I sat up on the blanket, holding my hand out to him. I wanted to run to him, but I was afraid to move out of the circle of trees and wind and ground. Afraid almost to look away from him because if I blinked, he would seep away into the trees like a summer dream.
He stood at the blanket's edge just out of reach and slowly lifted his hand toward mine until our fingers brushed, and that small touch sent a fluttering like a cloud of butterflies inside my body. It drew a sigh from my lips. Galen dropped to his knees on the blanket, hands at his sides, making no effort to touch me again.
I came up on my knees to mirror him. We knelt staring at each other, so close that we almost didn't need hands to touch. His hand raised slowly and hovered over the bare skin of my shoulder. I could feel his aura, his power, like a warm breath coming from his body. His hand skated across the trembling energy of my own aura, and those two separate warmths flared, reaching for each other. I'd feared that it would be hard to raise the magic, but I'd forgotten. I'd forgotten what it truly meant to be fey, to be sidhe. We were magic, as the earth and the trees were magic. We burned with the same invisible flame that bound the world together. That warm flame swelled between us, filled the air around us with a shimmering, beating energy like the sound of wings.
We kissed through that rising energy. It flowed between our mouths as he bent over me, and I raised my face to meet his lips. He was velvet warmth against my mouth, inside my mouth as his power spilled down my throat inside my body. When we'd shared Niceven's power it had been sharp, hot, almost painful. This was so much more, gentle warmth, the first breath of spring after a long winter.
His hands found my body, spilling my breasts bare to the wind. He drew his lips back from mine and lowered his face to my breasts, taking first one then the other into his mouth, rolling the nipples in the warmth, spilling power. His hands cupped my breasts, fingers tightening, until I cried out. His hands slid down my back to my hips, fingers catching the edge of the bikini bottoms, sliding them down my thighs, stopped at my knees, trapped. He rolled me onto my back and slid the last bit of clothing away.
I lay naked before him for the first time with the wind spilling over my body, spilling over his body. He was propped up on one arm, the long naked line of his body so close to mine. I ran my hand down his chest, down his stomach, his waist, and finally touched the warmth of him. I cupped him in my hands, holding him solid and warm, and he shuddered, eyes closing. When he opened them his green eyes were full of a dark light, a dark knowledge that stopped my breath and made things low in my body tighten. I squeezed gently, caressed him, and his spine bowed with it, head thrown back so far I couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed.
I moved down while he was staring up at the sky, as my hand fondled him. I rolled him into my mouth in a sudden complete movement that brought a deep sound from his throat. I rolled my eyes so I could see his face when he turned from the sky and looked down at me. His lips half parted, his face almost wild. His breath came in quick gasps that started in his stomach, spilled to his chest, and came out his lips in a word. He breathed my name like a prayer and touched my shoulders. He shook his head. "I won't last long."
I lifted my mouth from his body, pushed him onto his back. I knelt over his legs and stared down at him. I'd wanted this for so long. I caressed his body with just my gaze, memorizing the way the color of his skin went from white to a pale spring green, the darkness of his nipples, tight against his chest. I rubbed my hand down the front of his body, feeling the skin like brushed velvet or suede, and still there was no word for how soft the skin, how hard and firm the flesh. But it wasn't just his flesh I'd been wanting all these years. It was his magic.
I called my power like a breathing warmth from my skin, and his aura raised like a warm sea and spilled into my power. Our magic flowed together like two currents of an ocean, mingling, drowning together.
I moved my body over his, taking him slowly inside me a tight inch at a time, until he was sheathed inside me. He whispered my name, and I bent over him until we kissed, kissed with the feel of him inside me, our bodies pressed in the most intimate of embraces.