Midnight End

20

8 Knight’s words created a vacuum that sucked every ounce of air from our small refuge. Only the fire continued to breathe as it popped and crackled beside us. My eyes stayed glued to his, transfixed by his bright amber irises, made even more dynamic as they reflected the dancing orange flames from the fire. In that moment, there wasn’t much I wouldn’t have given to know what he was thinking, but as confident and accomplished as I was, I couldn’t force the words past my lips to simply ask. Perhaps I didn’t actually want to know, or perhaps, I was scared of the answer. Ever so slowly, he pulled backward, and his eyes broke our connection. As I took in a long, steadying breath, there was a flutter inside my chest I hadn’t experienced in centuries—like a bottle of champagne had been uncorked in my stomach, and the little bubbles now coated my insides. The sensation was exquisite and frightening all at once. When I glanced up to see if Knight had been similarly affected, I froze as an icy chill skittered across my exposed skin. His eyes were ablaze with rapt intensity, muscles coiled at the ready, hand snaking out to take hold of my knife. As he lifted the long blade between us, I attempted to clear my intoxicated brain and summon a plan. My reflexes sluggish, I never had the chance. Knight stabbed out with lightning speed, the knife plunging into the dirt wall beside my head. I screeched and dove to the side, rounding to hunch in a defensive stance. The knife stuck straight out from the wall where it impaled a spider-like creature, body the size of a large potato, just inches from where my head had been. I spun around toward the open air of the forest and took deep breaths to help keep my rebelling stomach from unloading its contents. “It’s a Kaché,” said Knight from behind me. “Nasty buggers if they get their claws in you but perfect for dinner—hunting doesn’t get any easier than that.” I whipped my head around and gaped at him. “You can’t be serious.” He smiled up at me, eyes dancing. “Hell yeah, I am. Those things may be deadly, but once the pinchers are removed, that baby will be delicious.” I threw my hand over my mouth to battle against gagging. I should have known Snoopy’s palette would be less than discerning. Hell, dogs ate their own s**t. There was no way I was going to trust his opinion on food. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.” “Who said I was sharing?” I rolled my eyes and huffed out a laugh. Thirty minutes later, Knight had cooked off the fine hairs from the carcass, removed the legs and pinchers, then skewered the body to rotisserie over the fire. Once the creature had been reduced to a chunk of meat on a stick, I had to admit, it wasn’t altogether unappealing. At least he was cooking the thing and not tearing into it raw. I cringed at the image. “You cold?” he asked in a deep rumble. “No, just tired. I suppose I had more wine than I realized. Plus, it’s been an eventful day.” He pulled the skewer off the fire and sliced into the Kaché fillet. “Perfect,” he mused to himself. He pulled off a section of meat and sucked it into his mouth, huffing to keep from burning his tongue. The creature had been surprisingly fatty, dripping juices into the fire as it cooked. When he sucked the meat into his mouth, it left a glistening sheen of moisture on his lips that reflected the firelight. I had a sudden overwhelming urge to lick the substance from his full lips. My own lips had parted, and he must have misunderstood my look when he peered over at me. He took off a small sliver of meat and blew on it to cool it. Then he extended the morsel between his thumb and fingers until it was a breath away from touching my lips. “Go ahead, try some. You’ll never know if you like it unless you try it,” he offered in a sultry murmur. As if I was his to command, my jaw fell open. I accepted his offering, closing my lips to suck on his thick fingers as he slowly pulled them away. The intensity in his gaze brutalized my independence like a storm raging against a lighthouse. I could feel his unspoken need for me to bend to his will, and somewhere deep inside, I rejoiced at the prospect of turning over that control. I was immensely proud that I was a strong, independent woman who could live her life without the help or involvement of a man. With that being said, having a break from the endless responsibilities sounded enormously appealing—a time and place where I was safe to surrender those tightly held reins. It would be liberating, to say the least. My body seemed to recognized Knight as trustworthy hands in which to place those reins because my body responded to him in ways it never had for others. The savory taste of the meat along with the pulsing arousal of having his fingers in my mouth ripped an unsolicited moan from my throat. With a responding growl, Knight dropped the skewer and was instantly on me, his lips colliding with mine as his hands angled my face up toward his. My head had already been spinning from the wine, but the kiss sent me into another universe. Our tongues met in a dance of discovery as my hands traced the heavenly planes of his chest and broad shoulders. For countless minutes, we explored one another, lost in the haze of the wine and the thrill of adventure. We had both embarked on new paths in our lives, in addition to our quest for the cauldron. My lips lifted at the thought of how close I was to capturing what I had sought for so long. Knight pulled back and glanced between my slitted eyes and my languid grin. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?” he grumbled with amusement. I found his words absurdly funny and broke into a fit of giggles. “Only as drunk as you are. We both drank the wine.” “Right, and that’s why I’m the one laughing so hard, I can’t sit upright.” He reached behind me to grab my shirt from the cave wall, and I leaned in to sniff along his body. “Mmmm … you smell so good—like man and rain,” I murmured with my eyes closed. The hour must have been late because I found it increasingly hard to keep my eyes open. “That’s because I’m a man, and it’s raining out.” “No, no. It’s more than that—rich and spicy…” I trailed off, not sure where I had been going. “All right, Shakespeare. Lift your arms.”