Aftershocks Read online

  Unfortunately, his words and the way he’d said them sparked a memory.

  “More,” he’d said, before grabbing her and pulling her on top of him. She’d slowly eased down, encasing his hot cock inside her. Riding him as he’d teased her breasts, she’d stared into dark brown eyes filled with heat, with power, and with affection she returned far more than was good for her.

  Another image. His eyes clouded, darkened with rage when he’d learned her father’s identity and Ellie’s real reason for being at Outpour. He’d refused to listen to her after that, refused to hear the painful truth she’d been a heartbeat from declaring. Instead he’d shouted, insulting and shocking her with words that turned her world upside-down.

  “No,” she rasped and pushed away from him. What the hell did she think she was doing, letting Cadmus Storm back into her graces?

  “Ellie,” he cajoled. “We’re just getting started.”

  Oh no, not that slumberous look that made her melt into a puddle at his feet. She deliberately focused on the pulse beating at his neck.

  “I’m not doing this again. Not with you.” I refuse to let you hurt me like you did before. She kept her thoughts to herself, deliberately shielding from him.

  “Ellie, I hate to break it to you,” his soft voice lured her into looking back at him, “but you can no more deny this than I can.”

  “You’re wrong.” She took a deep breath, aware the movement created a delicious friction against her taut nipples.

  “Am I? You want me, Ellie.” He flashed a dimple that made him all the more enticing. Rubbing his chest with deliberate strokes, he seduced her with word and sight and sound. “I remember how much you like my touch.” He studied her body, fixating between her thighs. “You get so wet for me, so sweet. Remember how I teased your clit? How I licked you all over, then made my way back up your body to suck your nipples into hard little points? How I brought you to orgasm over and over again with just my mouth and hands?”

  She wished she could forget. As it was, her breasts ached to feel him touch her once more.

  His eyes wandered to her navel. “Still wearing it?”

  He’d been fascinated by her belly ring and apparently still was. She had no intention of telling or showing him she never took it off.

  “Look, Cadmus,” she said, trying to catch her breath. Her hands itched. She could still feel him beneath her palms. “It’s way too early for this.”

  “I’m not moving until you’re under me, or we go out and do something.”

  The way her body reacted, she knew she was too close to the first option. Ellie cleared her throat. “I’m letting you stay in my home. Hell, I’ll even spend some time with you to ease your princely boredom,” she conceded. Anything to get him out of here before I jump him and lose all self-respect. “But I won’t make lo— I won’t fuck you again.”

  His good humour left him, and he stepped closer. “Oh honey, we’ll make love again.” Shocks of elemental power yanked her into his waiting arms. “Don’t worry, my little Djinn.” He infuriated her with his sheer strength, his presumption and how easily he made her want him. “I won’t force you. The next time we fuck…” he bit out, “…you’ll be begging me for it.” He kissed her hard, then let her go and turned on his heel, slamming the door shut behind him.

  Ellie fingered her throbbing lips, staring at the closed door with alarm. She wanted him more now than she ever had, and she’d just agreed to spend time with him. Crap. Since she couldn’t stay away from him physically, she’d have to emotionally distance herself. If she could think with her head instead of her hormones.

  Hell. Ellie groaned and slumped back onto her bed. She had no job, no means of avoiding Cadmus now, and no discipline when it came to her traitorous, unruly body.

  The way things were shaping up, she’d be begging him to take her by the end of the day, and hating herself for it.

  Cadmus stormed into the living room, seething with irritation and a foreign sense of hurt that made no sense. Way to go, jackass. Why not just wave a red flag and admit how much you want her? And while you’re at it, act so conceited that now she won’t touch you with a ten-foot pole out of sheer spite.

  Groaning at what he’d done, he tumbled onto her short, uncomfortable couch and wondered how he’d gone from smooth-talker to lackwit in so little time. For some reason, Ellie affected him, badly. With other women, he could charm and flirt. Hell, he’d once done as much to Ellie, before he’d learned the truth. That he’d begun falling for a damn Djinn.

  She’d been so damned sweet and so intoxicating he’d been helpless to resist her. He’d never before seen a woman with her beauty, one that radiated from deep within and was mirrored outwardly in a package irresistible to any man with a pulse. She’d made his nights at Outpour bearable, until he could think of little more than seeing her again. Touching her again. Tasting her again.

  His cock throbbed at the memories, his frustration compounding as turbulent images pressed him. Their first kiss, the feel of her silken skin under his palms, skin that he’d so recently stroked…

  He growled and stood, pacing the narrow confines of her eclectic apartment. He’d let the woman bewitch him until he didn’t know up from down. He frowned, not understanding why she acted like the aggrieved party when he’d been the one played for a fool. She’d tricked him into sharing vital knowledge about his family, possibly putting them in harm’s way. It was only sheer dumb luck she and her father were rebel Djinn, bent on helping the Storm Lords’ cause.

  Throwing himself back onto the couch, he linked his hands behind his head and focused on cooling down his overheated body. Thoughts of Jonas and the mess Cadmus had left in Foreia put him in better spirits. He hadn’t exactly told Ellie the truth of why he’d left the Djinn homeworld. Yes, he’d riled Jonas’ friends, but he’d been attacking their Dark Mistress, Lexa Van Nostren, and all because of her hostile attitude towards Arim.

  Hell, it wasn’t as if Cadmus had asked for Lexa’s help. Of course, the spells she’d taught him, as well as the knowledge she’d surprisingly imparted about her own kind, would more than aid him should he—when he—met ‘Sin Garu again. He shook his head, still puzzling over the Lexa’s convoluted relationship with her family.

  Growing up with three irritating though loving brothers, as well as nurturing parents, had taught Cadmus to revere family. He couldn’t imagine being pleased with one of his brothers’ deaths, nor would he ever consciously betray them to an enemy, no matter what the cause.

  Perhaps all the Dark Lords were evil, not merely Dark but full of death and corruption. From what he’d heard of B’alen, that description applied. And he’d seen enough of ‘Sin Garu to confirm that bastard’s perfidy. But Lexa didn’t seem anything like a Dark Lord, or Dark Mistress, as Jonas and his Djinn called her. In her presence, Cadmus had to remind himself not to like her.

  Her dry sense of humour, breathtaking beauty and incredible knowledge of spells were enough to throw even an experienced Djinn like Jonas. Jonas actually bowed in her presence. Everything Cadmus had learned about the Djinn told him how little they thought of sovereignty. Yet Jonas spoke to her with reverence, nothing at all like the way he talked to Cadmus, a Storm Lord prince.

  He shook his head. Lexa and Jonas deserved each other. Both had layers of Dark power surging through their blood—if Lexa even had any through all that ice—that made Cadmus uneasy. And trying to make sense of anything Jonas said half the time gave him a headache.

  Admittedly, Jonas had a wicked sense of humour that more often than not made him want to laugh, despite his irritation at being denied his homeworld. In the weeks Cadmus had been forced to endure the Djinn’s company, he’d never seen the man so affected by anyone…with the exception of Lexa and Ellie, of course.

  He scowled. Were Jonas and Ellie related? They called themselves cousins, but Jonas referred to his fellow warriors as brothers. So maybe cousin was a vague Djinn reference for friendship? Just the thought of Jonas and Ellie bein
g intimate, of the dark Djinn touching her, kissing her, brought forth a strange anger that had Cadmus hungry for something beyond his comprehension.

  “Cadmus?” Ellie asked tentatively from her doorway.

  “Yes?” He kept his voice even, determined to keep his cool around her. He’d never get her to surrender if he taunted her at every turn.

  She cautiously approached wearing jeans and a blouse. Casual, but on her they looked like designer wear. Her eyes widened. Reaching out a soft, long-fingered hand, she stroked his arm, making him groan at the tingly sensation. “You’re in truth, Cadmus. I’m not sure how or why, but you’re definitely not yourself.”

  Cadmus glanced down at his arm and stared in shock. Where his arm should have been, a bright white band of energy glowed, surrounded by black flame.

  “Relax and breathe deeply,” she ordered, calming him with her steady nerve. “I’ve seen my father control this. You just have to release whatever’s inside you holding onto that energy.”

  “What energy? What the hell is this?”

  “I’m not sure.” She turned his cheek to face her and looked deeply into his eyes. Her power was an almost tangible thing he could reach out and touch. “Trust me, Cadmus. Focus on the core inside you, that anger, rage, whatever passion that has fixed you in truth, and let it go. Deep, consistent breathing helps.”

  “Sure.” Easier said than done. He evened out his breathing, trying to unglue his mind from the wall of panic threatening to overtake him. Since when did Storm Lords—Light Bringers—burn in truth?

  Ellie’s touch grew soothing, and after several minutes passed, he gradually felt something inside of him ease. Blinking at Ellie, he felt his heart leap, and he struggled to grab hold of his senses. By the Light, her eyes were a startling, alluring shade of blue.

  “Thanks,” he said gruffly. He rubbed his temples, a headache brewing. The last time he’d been thrust in truth, he’d afterward had head pain for hours.

  “What were you thinking before you changed?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s just forget this happened, okay? Now what’s on the agenda for today?” He didn’t want to talk about flashing like a Djinn until he had time to think about what it might mean. And he had no intention of revealing how much thoughts of Ellie with another man stung him. He glanced at her and saw her bite her lip as she looked at his chest and lower.

  His cock hardened. More pain he didn’t need right now. But watching Ellie turn a pretty shade of pink and try to pretend she hadn’t been looking appeased his frustration. Somewhat.

  Ellie coughed and looked anywhere but at Cadmus. “First, you’re going to get dressed.”

  “I am dressed.”

  “Put a shirt on. Then we’ll go down to the university, where I’ll register for the upcoming summer classes. With any luck, I’ll be able to finish at least four of my remaining six credits.”

  Grabbing a shirt from his duffel bag, he threw it on, pleased his body made her so uncomfortable. He joined her in the kitchen and settled on a stool overlooking the kitchen island. She grabbed a pan and a carton of eggs and started working. Satisfied she didn’t intend to bolt, at least not anytime soon, he gave in to his rampant curiosity and asked the questions he’d wanted to ask for weeks.

  “So how is it you don’t see yourself as Djinn?”

  When she’d first denied her ties to the Dark kin, he’d wanted nothing more than to prove her for the liar he knew her to be. To make her pay for causing him such hurt. But after those first few days of almost hating her, he considered all he knew about her. He asked Jonas a few questions and realised Ellie meant what she’d said. She didn’t consider herself Djinn.

  Ellie Markham, Seattle native and graduate student, wanted no part of the Djinn or of Tanselm. As far as she was concerned, she was a xiantope, a being of no magic and proud of it. It made no sense then, and it still didn’t. He could feel the magic pulsing within her just by looking at her.

  Her movements grew stiffer as she scrambled some eggs in a large skillet. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Ellie, I already told you I’m sorry about what I said before. I don’t hate all Djinn. Just the ones who killed my father and want to destroy Tanselm.”

  Her gaze flew to his. “What did you say?”

  “I said I didn’t mean it.”

  “No. The part about your father being dead.”

  He frowned. “Over a year ago, my father was killed by Djinn poison. Apparently, we’ve had Djinn infiltrators, not your rebel friends, but real baddies who insist on killing as many Storm Lords as they possibly can before taking over Tanselm as the kingdom’s ‘rightful rulers’.”

  “Oh, wow. I didn’t know.”

  “Yeah, well.” He didn’t want to talk about it.

  “So you aren’t just a prejudiced bastard who hates those different from his royal self.” She watched him carefully.

  He rolled his eyes. “Would you get off the ‘royal’ bandwagon? I’m a prince, big deal. You’re the daughter of Ethim il Ruethe, clan leader to the Sarqua. That’s royalty in my book, princess.”

  She glared at him and turned back to the sizzling eggs. “I thought you hated all Djinn because we’re—they’re—Dark.”

  “I already said I don’t hate all Djinn. Jonas is a pain in the ass, and his brothers could use some lessons in manners. But most of the Djinn I’ve met in Foreia have been fair.” More than fair considering what he’d put them through.

  She took the pan away from the heat and turned to him. “I really am sorry about your father.”

  Uncomfortable with the topic, still not yet to terms with his grief, he shrugged. “He’s in the Next, waiting for my mother. I’m sure wherever he is, he’s getting into as much trouble as possible. He’s a wind master.”

  “Like your brother Aerolus, right?”

  “Right.” He swallowed the orange juice she placed in front of him in one gulp. The rage he’d once felt in having confided in her had faded, and he now felt pleased he could talk with someone outside of his family about his loved ones. A year in this plane had forged a closeness with his brothers he sorely missed. “You’d think Aerolus, a Wind Mage, would be as laid back. But no way. He’s one uptight sorcerer.”

  She scooped a large portion of the eggs onto a plate and set it down before him, bringing a second, smaller plate for herself. Sitting across the counter from him, she began eating. “That’s not what I hear.”

  “Oh?”

  “Rumour has it Aerolus has been pleasantly low-key since marrying Alandra le Aelle.” Ellie suddenly smiled, a wicked grin that had his blood rising. “You know what they say about creatures of Shadow and Dark.”

  He stared, transfixed by expression. “No, what?”

  “That anything dark is dangerously good. Shadows are sexy and dark is sinfully seductive. It’s why they make the best lovers.” As soon as she said it, she froze, then she hurriedly stuffed the rest of her food in her mouth, choking on her eggs.

  “From my experience, I’d say that’s true.” Her distress both amused and enflamed him. Why the hell had he dared her to come to him? “But then, I’m just a Light Bringer, so what would I know? Now my uncle—” He stopped, wishing he hadn’t brought up that unpleasant topic of conversation.

  “Yes, your uncle?” she prodded, no doubt grateful to have the attention off her.

  “Let’s not talk about him. He’s not real popular with anyone in Foreia.” Anyone meant Lexa, and he’d been forbidden to say her name outside the small circle of rebel Djinn. He silently agreed. The less said about Lexa, in his opinion, the better. “Besides, I’m on his shi—bad list.”

  “Now, Cadmus,” she teased, the old Ellie making him long to pull her in his arms and forget the past hurt between them, “why would you be on anyone’s bad list? I simply can’t imagine.”

  Chapter Three

  “I swear by the Light’s Grace, if I never have to search for this misbegotten prince again, it will be too soon.” Arim Valens, Guard
ian of Storm, Killer of Shadow, and disgruntled uncle, swore under his breath as his sister approached with a scowl on her ageless face. “Not now, Your Grace,” he managed respectfully and turned away.

  Too late.

  Her irritation churned through the hallways of the Western Palace, stirring Tanselm’s magic like a heavy breeze. At moments like this, Arim clearly recognised his sister’s awesome power, and how good she was at making him feel less like the kingdom’s sorcerer and more like her younger, recalcitrant brother.

  She grabbed him by the sleeve and dragged him into a private room off the corridor, much to the shock of several of her retainers. She slammed the door shut, giving them privacy.

  “Don’t you dare put me off,” Ravyn said, fury in her bright green eyes. Despite her small stature, she was more than a match for him. “I want to know why I can’t see Cadmus now that the brunt of the Netharat has fallen.”

  He wanted to shake her, to tell her to take a look around. Djinn had infiltrated the Royal House, those of Light were not all to be trusted, and creatures of Shadow were now openly invited into Tanselm’s warmth, courtesy of Aerolus’ new wife. Instead, he hugged her tightly, knowing he would do everything in his power to make his past mistakes right—mistakes that had cost the kingdom its greatest overking and the rest of a once-great Tetrarch.

  He squeezed her shoulders and pushed her away enough to look at her. “Ravyn, the walls are not safe here.”

  She waved a hand and visible sparks blanketed the walls, ceiling and floor, caging them inside. “Now they are. Stop stalling. What’s wrong with Cadmus?”

  “Nothing,” he immediately protested, feeling like a small child caught with his hand over the sweets. How the hell did she do that? Was it a motherly thing, or her distinction as overqueen? “He’s fine. I left him with friends, people I’m not at liberty to discuss.” He held up a hand to silence her. “Not even with you.”

  She shook her head. “I almost lost Aerolus just a few days ago. Three of my four sons are here, safe with me. I want the last one, and I want him now.” The look she gave him made lesser men tremble.