Rapture Page 59


Elora’s hair began to blow around her and the lights in the room began to flicker as Tony’s blood ran down the mirror. Then, just as quickly as the air had come, it was gone. And Tony was still standing there.

“I don’t get it,” she spoke up as everyone but Cush stared slack-jawed at the human. Cush was frowning. “Did it work?”

Cush walked over to the mirror and pulled Tony’s arm away. He slowly put his hand to the mirror and pushed. The group collectively gasped as his arm went right through it. Elora wanted to grab onto him for some reason. She had this horrible feeling that something was going to latch onto him from the other side and not let go. And as if her nightmares had been heard by someone, Cush suddenly jerked his arm back. She could tell he had been pulling against something.

“Cush!” She grabbed him and pulled him back, turning him to face her. “What happened?” She refrained, somehow, from patting him down everywhere to reassure herself that he was in one piece. She really was becoming such a girl.

“The portals have already been opened. But they’re being watched,” he told her solemnly.

“What does that mean?” Oakley asked.

“It means that if we go through the portal we aren’t going to be safe. I just put my arm through and someone grabbed it,” Cush explained. “It’s extremely difficult to monitor the portals, but it can be done with someone who has a lot of power.”

Elora looked at Cush and then at Rin because the two warriors were staring at each other and she could see the same frustration mirrored there. Here were two men accustomed to taking action, to protecting those in their care, and they didn’t have a clue how to help themselves.

“Surely they can’t be monitoring every portal everywhere,” Elora pointed out.

“I don’t really want to take a chance to find out,” Cush told her meaningfully.

“So what do we do now?” Elora asked, frustration evident in the deep tone of her voice. “I mean Tony’s over there bleeding to death, we’re in a booty call motel, our vehicle’s been blown to hell, the dark elves know we’re around somewhere because we just burned their little farming operation to the ground, and we can’t even go have fun in Vegas because the creepy elf Dr. Evil is there. It seems to me like we just don’t have a lot of options here.”

“I think we need to get some rest, and then we will figure out what the next step is,” Lisa spoke up. She walked over to Elora and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know you want action, Elora. You’re just like your father, always running in guns blazing, but we have to sleep sometime. Only then will we be thinking clearly.”

Elora tried not to flinch at the mention of her father. It was still a painful topic and one they hadn’t had time to fully discuss.She finally relented. “Okay, fine, we’ll sleep first.” She started for the motel door but was brought up short by a large hand around her wrist. She didn’t turn; she’d know that touch anywhere.

“You stay with me,” Cush’s breath rushed across her neck as his lips brushed her ear with each word. When he picked her up in his arms, she didn’t resist. She just let him take care of her.

“It’s about time,” he whispered as he laid her on the bed and pulled the covers up. He climbed on next to her leaning against the headboard and then drug her up to lay against his chest. His bossiness should tick her off, but as his body warmed hers and his heartbeat lulled her to sleep, she couldn’t find the energy to be irritated, let alone mad at him.

Cush struggled with the urge to haul off and kill someone or something. As he lay with his Chosen in his arms in the dark motel room, his mind was continually drawn back to that moment when he had put his arm in the portal. Someone, and he knew it was a someone because it had been a hand, had grabbed his arm. He had felt the heat from their skin against his and when they had attempted to pull him through the portal it had enraged him. The amount of evil that had been in that touch had left his skin feeling as though thousands of ants were marching along his nerves all doing a dance to the tune of “Another One Bites the Dust.” Whoever had touched him had wanted him to feel that evil. They had wanted him to know they were hunted, they were prey, and few things angered him more than feeling like prey.

“You’re thinking awfully loud,” Elora’s tired voice broke through his thoughts.

He ran a hand over her hair and down her back, enjoying the way she felt. “Shh, Little Raven, you need more sleep.”

“Your little raven is going to peck your eye balls out if you don’t quit telling her what to do.” Cush chuckled at her kitten like growl. “You like it when I boss you around,” he teased as he whispered against her ear. She was still sprawled across his chest where he had put her, and even though she was arguing with him, she had yet to attempt to move away.

“Yes, well I also like the smell of gasoline and the way a snake feels, so I wouldn’t bank your actions too much on what I like.”

“The way a snake feels?” he repeated and though she couldn’t see him he still quirked a brow at her.

“Blame it on the dark blood,” she said dryly.

She buried herself closer to him and pressed her face against his neck. Cush stubbornly tried not to enjoy it too much, but her warm breath skittered across his skin and distracted him from the evil he had been so focused on.

“I keep hearing something about evil dance across your thoughts, Warrior,” she said softly. “What evil?”

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