Things were cycling through my mind; the sexual aggression Slate had shown me, certain things he'd said to me, and, of course, the brutal way he had killed that Troll. I should have known there was something wrong with him. Now that I was thinking about it, even Daha had shied away from Slate. Had he known? If he had, why didn't he tell me? He'd had me alone in that room and could have said anything in confidence. But no, wait; he didn't react to Slate until after my reading.
“El?” Slate's voice was even more gravely than usual.
“Hey, you.”
He frowned and sat up. Glanced at the waiting drink. “Why am I... oh, fuck.” His silver stare lifted to mine and widened. “Was I fucking infected with Gargo blood?”
I laughed. It just sort of burst out of me in relief. “A little.”
“A little?” He growled, grabbed his drink, and downed it. “I think that's an under— oh, son of a bitch! I killed a Troll.”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “But it wasn't exactly you.”
“Fuck me,” Slate groaned as he ran his hand over his face. Then he looked up at me suddenly and with horror. “Did I ask you to strip?!”
“You practically demanded it,” I winced as I said it.
“I'm so sorry, sweetheart.” He held a hand out to me. “Forgive me?”
I stood up and went to him, leaving my glass on the table. “It wasn't you.” I took his hand and sat beside him. “It's forgiven and forgotten.”
“Thank you.” Slate lifted my hand to kiss tenderly.
“It's been a long day, baby.” I stroked his hair back. “Why don't we get some sleep?”
“I can't,” Slate said in a tired tone as he stood. “I need to know the Zone is safe.” He frowned. “And I think I need to apologize to Binx. And Jago.” His frown turned into a grimace. “Fuck, that's going to be worse than drinking Darc's blood.”
“At least you weren't awake for that.”
His grimace deepened. “Did Declan really whammy me to sleep?”
I chuckled. “Faster than I could have done it.”
“Fucking fairy,” but he said it with affection.
Slate was back.
“Okay, baby; let's go watch over your zone,” I said. “But first, you gotta do one thing for me.”
“Anything,” Slate said with utter sincerity.
“It pains me to ask this of you.” I sighed dramatically.
Slate frowned in concern.
“Put some damn clothes on, Gargoyle. You're naked. Again. And I'm tired of you showing off your assets to the entire Zone.” I winked at him then ran from the room before he could grab me.
Chapter Seventeen
Slate made his apologies—Jago surprisingly gave him more shit than Binx—then we set in to monitor the Zone's recovery. We even went on patrol at one point; we were both going stir crazy and had to get out of his office. As night rolled into early morning, the brightening lights of the Zone found us cruising down quiet streets in Slate's Maserati. We exchanged a relieved grin and finally began to relax. There had been no new incidents and, despite what I'd said to Torin, I was certain enough that I didn't see the need to bother Daha for confirmation. Instead, Slate and I drove to our palace, went to bed, and slept late into the morning.
No one disturbed us. The Zone's sunlight didn't even bother us when it edged past the balcony and into the bedroom. I awoke refreshed and ready to...
A sharp pain lanced through me. Not like a knife but like fire. It burned. I screamed. I scrambled blindly for help.
“Elaria!” Slate's arms went around me. “What's happening?”
“The RS,” I gasped.
“RS, what are you doing to her?!” Slate demanded.
Although Kyanite could only speak to Darc and me, the RS united me with my men and could speak to any or all of them directly. I heard her answer Slate, which meant that she wanted me to hear her.
I have no control of this, RS said grimly. It's what we feared. I need more fuel or both of us will burn out. Literally.
“No!” I snarled even as my body curled in upon itself as if it could deflect the pain.
Slate's arms tightened around me.
“Make love to me,” I whispered.
“You want me to have sex with you now?” Slate gaped at me.
It might work, RS admitted in a hopeful tone. I'll try to go deep into myself, back to the seed of my beginning.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Slate demanded.
“Back to when she needed lust instead of love,” I said breathlessly. “Hurry, Slate!”
“As if I could get turned on with you writhing in pain,” Slate growled.
There is more than one way to make love to a woman, RS declared. Get creative, Gargoyle!
I screamed again.
“Fuck!” Slate shouted in frustration. Then he whimpered. It was a sound I'd never heard him make; one of pain and fear but also love. “Hold on, sweetheart.”
Slate moved down my body, shifting my legs apart. I felt him slide my panties off, but the pain was making me arch and flinch. I bit my lip, trying to hold back my screams as fire—my very magic—threatened to destroy me. RS's need was unbalancing the Goddess magic and setting it free of my tight control.
Slate began to lick at me, hesitantly at first then more ardently. He groaned against my flesh, and I tried to concentrate on him and the pleasure he offered, but the pain kept rising higher like flames feeding on flesh.
Help me! I called to RS.
She is deep in herself; she cannot hear you, Kyanite said gently. But I am here with you, my love. Listen to me. Focus on my voice. Do you know how much I love you? How much I wish I could do for you what Slate is doing now? How I long to be aroused by your flesh and have flesh of my own to join with yours?
I shivered, and Slate started sucking at me. His
