Chapter 12
TWELVE
ATLAS
That was unexpected.
Who knew the prickly mage with walls of steel could be such a passionate kisser? My body is still tingling as he slides off my lap and bounces on his toes, rubbing his hands together.
“I’m not entirely clear on why it works so well, but who cares. We need to do more.”
“More?”
Rune turns to me, popping his hip, with his arms folded across his chest. “Have a problem with kissing me, Gargoyle?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s fine.”
“Fine?” He scoffs. “I’ll try not to be offended. Most people who kiss me can’t get enough.”
No way am I admitting how much more of him I want. How I wouldn’t mind if he made me his own personal chair and sat only on my lap. How I want to lick my lips right now to savor his taste.
“I think your ego will survive,” I say dryly instead.
A light chuckle bubbles out of him. “What a surprise you are. I admit I have relatively few interactions with gargoyles. Sure, I’ve heard things, but I tend to wait until I can form my own impressions.”
“And? What do you think so far?”
“Your skin is warmer than I expected. I always heard it was cool to the touch, like stone.”
It usually is, but admitting that I’m turned on and that’s why my skin is warm seems awkward.
“What else?”
“Apparently one rumor is true.” A playful smirk dances on his lips. “You have a battering ram between your legs.”
I choke in surprise, coughing through it while Rune laughs softly. “Uh, thanks?”
“You’re humble too. I always heard your kind were cocky meatheads.”
“That’s a stereotype meant to demean us. Gargoyles vary in personality as much as anyone does, though we do tend to mirror the societies we were built in.”
“I meant no disrespect. You’re… nicer than I anticipated, especially considering our previous interaction.”
“So are you. We thought you were a villain.”
“Some would still say I am. It’s a matter of perspective. I imagine whoever is behind this kidnapping thinks so.”
“Maybe. Have you considered the possibility that they want to exploit your power for their gain?”
“I’ve considered all possibilities.” He leans against the wall. “What bothers me is not having a clue who could be responsible. I thought I knew every magic user worth knowing, so this is coming out of left field.”
“The world is a big place, Rune. Maybe they live far away, unseen by you.”
“Possibly, but then how do they know I exist if I don’t know them?”
“Fair question.”
He nods, stepping closer to me again. “Can we try again? I think we’re close.”
“You want to kiss again?”
“I sure do.”
My stomach flutters and my cock perks back up. This isn’t romantic on his part, and I need to remember that. It’s a means to an end for Rune.
“Well come on, then.”
Rune scrambles to climb onto my lap again, and I’m really worried about the structural integrity of this cot under our weight, but before I can suggest an alternative, Rune is slamming his mouth against mine.
I wrap my arms around his small frame, pulling him closer. If we’re gonna kiss, then I’m at least going to enjoy it. Rune tugs on my beard, flicking his tongue out to catch mine, and the more I sink into the kiss, the stronger the strange vibration in my chest grows.
Rune kisses like he needs it to live, which is fine by me. He practically grinds his tight ass into my cock, moaning softly as I tangle my fingers in his hair. A surge of heat spreads through me, tingling all the way to my fingertips and toes, and Rune gasps softly just before deepening the kiss.
I see a flicker of light in front of my closed eyes, and I open them fully in time to see Rune’s tattoos lighting up, the glow soft and uneven but present.
“Yes,” he moans against my mouth, rocking harder into me. He slides his hand under my shirt again, gripping my pec muscles and murmuring words that don’t mean anything to me.
The ever-present knot in my chest expands, blooming into a warm pulsing sensation that I somehow connect to the sultry man in my arms. Something about it just feels like him. It’s the same way I felt when I dreamed about him or read his journal.
Rune drags his fingertips along my skin, sending tiny bolts of sizzling electricity through me. He doesn’t stop his chanting, and my attention shifts as the bars on the small window rattle faintly.
Rune breaks the kiss, exhaling loudly as he leans his forehead on my shoulder. “Gods. Did you feel that?”
“I felt something, yeah.”
“It’s like you’re some kind of anchor for my magic. Don’t ask me how or why, because I don’t know. What I do know is that we’re making something happen. We just have to keep trying.”
And keep kissing? No objection here.
“We might have to… increase our efforts.”
“What does that mean?”
Rune glances away, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear. “Oh, you know, maybe a little more than kissing.”
I hope my face doesn’t reveal how excited that sentence just made me. Mess around with the mage to get his magic back? Count me in.
“Whatever you need, Rune.”
He smiles, managing to look shy. “What a surprise you are,” he says, repeating his earlier words.
“Back atcha.”
RUNE
A romp with the gargoyle wasn’t in my plans, but I’ll take it. He’s not exactly hard on the eyes and based on what I can feel through his clothes, I’m in for a good time. Although, something tells me that if healing from a wolf shifter knot was rough…
Before I can make a move though, his brow furrows and he clutches the center of his chest.
“Atlas? Are you okay?”
His eyelids flutter as he leans back against the wall. His lips part, but no words come out for several seconds until he mumbles, “Try New Orleans. Can you hear me, Drax?”
The demon is reaching out again. Never thought I’d say it but thank the gods for Atlas and his motley crew. Between all of us, maybe we’ll get out of here unharmed.
Atlas gasps, slumping forward into my arms, then he sits up slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I could really feel that one.”
“What happened? Did they hear you?”
He shakes his head. “I can hear them, faintly, but it doesn’t seem like they can hear me back. The good news is they are looking and they won’t stop until they find us.” He frowns, twisting his lips for a moment. “Trouble is they may have to go to Auri for help.”
“Auri’s the boss, right?” He’s mentioned the name a few times already, and if I remember correctly, that’s who they were trying to steal the cursed amulet for.
He nods. “He won’t like it that I went out on my own mission, but at this point, I’ll just have to deal with his wrath.”
“Is he terrible?”
“Heck yeah. I’ll probably get stuck with a month of Grim clean-up duty. He’s Auri’s hellhound, and let me just tell you, his shit is the stuff of nightmares.”
I cringe. “Yuck.”
“Or he’ll make me do something stupid like bring him tea and cookies every day.”
“He won’t harm you though?”
“Harm me?” Atlas shakes his head. “Nah. His bark is way worse than his bite. Not that he hasn’t banished a few souls in his day, but we’re his family, in a weird little way.” Atlas chews his bottom lip for a second. “He’ll be disappointed in me. That’s way worse than anything else.”
“It isn’t lost on me that you’re in this situation because you came for me. Why?”
Atlas shrugs. “Because you needed help. I couldn’t just ignore it. You’d do the same, wouldn’t you?”
For someone I hardly know? Can’t say I would, but I keep that to myself. “Maybe we can make some real magic happen. If you’re willing.”
“Like I said, whatever you need.”
I inch a little closer to him, and a ping bounces through my chest, drawing me closer.
My magic is so attracted to him that my body physically reacts.
I’ve never felt anything like it. Mage magic is very much rooted in the world around us.
We pull our power from nature and from other beings, but usually it’s intentional.
Rituals are required, symbols drawn, chants recited…
even for someone as powerful as I am. I need clear and focused intent, if nothing else.
Besides, this, what’s happening here, it isn’t that I’m drawing energy from Atlas to create magic, it’s my magic somehow inside him.
I wonder what kind of magic I could summon if Atlas had me on my hands and knees, pounding my hole. I should most definitely find out. You know, for research.
Before I can suggest we take things to the next level, Elvira’s heavy footsteps reach me.
She’s not alone this time though. There’s a second set of steps.
Gasping softly, I turn to Atlas, but he’s already blended into the wall.
I mutter a brief incantation to shut off my spell.
No need to let my captors know I have even a fraction of my abilities.
The cell door opens and Elvira steps in, along with another cloaked figure whose face is obscured by a veil. Neither of them speak. I sit quietly, waiting for them to initiate dialogue.
The hooded figure leans close to Elvira, whispering something. The guard nods, turning her eerie gaze to me.
“It smells different in here,” Elvira says in her stuttered cadence. “Like magic.”
I shrug. “I don’t know why. Apparently, my magic has been compromised. If I could do magic, I wouldn’t be here anymore, now would I?”
The hooded figure turns in my direction, clearly watching me, even if I can’t make out their face under their hood.
They’re tall, but not as tall as Elvira, and I believe slightly shorter than me.
Their build is hard to detect under the flowing robe.
I can’t pick out anything specific about them.
They don’t smell like magic, but any user strong enough to overpower me could certainly conjure a masking spell.
Elvira walks over to the barred window, testing its strength. She seems pleased with it, mumbling in a strange language to the other person in the room. This must be my captor.
“When are you going to tell me why I’m here and what you plan to do with me?”
“When I am ready.” The voice behind the veil rattles through me, like a mixture of a thousand voices speaking at one time, but slightly off rhythm so the words don’t land in the same place at the same time. “There is no rush.”
“What about this war Elvira spoke of?”
“Who is Elvira?” the voice asks.
The guard points to herself. “He calls me this.”
The cloaked person huffs a laugh. “Clever.”
“I’m happy to change it, but we haven’t been formally introduced yet. I assume you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”
“Nice try.” The hooded person steps closer, and for a moment, I fear they’ll detect Atlas, if they don’t already know he’s here. “We’re almost ready for you. Until then, enjoy your stay.”
They both turn toward the door, but I hop off the cot and bravely grab the cloaked figure’s arm. They stiffen under my touch, and I’m hit with a wave of powerful, yet oddly familiar magic that burns my fingertips.
I stumble backward in shock. I know this person. Somehow, we’ve interacted before, but the memory is too hazy to make sense of.
The figure hurries out of the room, waiting behind Elvira as she locks the cell door. Once their footsteps fade, Atlas reappears.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I know that person. I mean, we’ve met or something before. Their magic felt familiar. I’ve experienced it before, I just can’t remember how or who.”
“That’s a start though, right? Maybe you’ll think of it after a bit.”
“Yeah, maybe. It’s amazing they can’t detect you.”
“I give off nothing when I move to that form. It’s one step away from shifting completely.”
“Incredible.”
Atlas places his large hands on my shoulders, gently massaging. “Let’s see if we can get you relaxed and then play with your magic a little more. How does that sound?”
I nod, unable to reply with anything more substantial. My mind is a storm of thoughts ranging from the strange pull between me and Atlas to whoever the hell is holding me captive, and how I’m going to get my magic back.
It’s a lot, but maybe I can lose myself in a little pleasure for a while. Kill two birds, as the saying goes.