Page 60 of Sacrifice

The sensations she’d felt in the dark the night after her plunge returned to her. Fingertips had brushed over her skin. Electrifying fingertips.

She pulled off her clothes. Lucien’s eyes ran over her body, and she felt the restrained desire push at the edges of her consciousness.

“There are mirrors in my bedroom.” He took her hand and led her to a second room almost as large as the first, this one dominated by a sumptuous bed. He guided her past it into a dressing room where two full-length mirrors faced each other, allowing a person who stood in between to view themselves from both sides.

“Wait here for a moment. There are a couple of artefacts that will help.” He dashed away and returned with a box, which he set at her feet. Eve looked at herself in the mirror. In just a bra and panties now, most of her skin was exposed. There were no unusual marks that she could see.

Lucien opened the box to reveal the Blades of Sargon, now complete with the Venus dagger and the sun stone. He withdrew from the box the faceted orb of crystal. “Hold this with both hands.The Eye of Shamash. It belonged to the High Priests of the Babylonian court. Only one other like it has ever been discovered, but it was damaged, a whole portion missing.” He seemed giddy with excitement. “Don’t drop it.” He said the last words with a smile, but she could see how seriously he meant them.

Eve grasped it with both hands. “But I left all this with the curators.”

“And I took it back. I needed to examine them.” Lucien quickly removed his own shirt and jeans, so that he too wore only underwear. Eve raised her eyebrows at him. “It’s better this way. Binding and shield displayed together. Trust me.” He shook his head with a faint smile. Lucien put his hands on her shoulders, bowed his head and spoke, soft and low. “Runicum revelare corporem.”

She watched the form of his face tighten with concentration. A groove appeared between his eyebrows and the surrounding air thickened as he continued to speak. “Runarum latitarum palam facere.” A bead of sweat appeared on his brow and rolled down over his cheekbone, around the strong line of his jaw and down his neck to settle in the dip of his collarbone.

Eve’s eyes ran over his chest. Toned and broad, smooth olive skin sparkled with a sheen of sweat. Eve wanted to touch him, but the orb was heavy and required both hands.

He brought his eyes up to meet hers. “I show you the marks of protection I left upon your skin, my queen.” He released her shoulder and moved his hands to hover flat palms an inch away from the orb. The air around him shifted. Ripples in the darkness flowed from him to wash over the surface of the orb onto her hands and up her arms.

Eve glanced up from the orb to his eyes. Golden prisms danced in their depths and she felt herself drawn in, transfixed. He was a sanctuary from the buzz of energy that surrounded her constantly. He quietened the noise whose presence she’d only recognized now that it had gone.

“Lucien,” she breathed.

He touched the orb lightly with his fingertips, and the intensity of energy flow increased. Every nerve ending tingled, and the remembered sensation of fingertips brushed against her skin returned. Every hair stood on end as goosebumps pricked.

“Look,” Lucien said in a low whisper, directing her gaze to the mirror with a nod.

Eve gasped. Her reflection was adorned with glimmering tattoos that moved sinuously over her body, like snakes writhing in the depths of a pit. They were at once both beautiful and terrible, fascinating, and terrifying. Their lines sparkled like stars, leaving no discernible trace in the moments they winkedout of existence, yet they existed inside her skin, squirming and alive.

She drew back. “Oh, my god.”

“Don’t be afraid, Eve. I know this looks alien to you, but it is ancient magic. Magic that prevents the Sentinels from finding you. Until today anyway.”

“Sentinels? You mean Michaels? Is that what he is? What does that even mean?”

“He is a foot soldier of the Akkadian Council, here to make sure I stay trapped, Eve. He’s here to keep us apart. Look at me.”

Eve’s eye’s left the mirror to gaze at him. Lucien too was covered with markings. Ancient symbols were tattooed onto his skin. Not sparling and moving like Eves, but solid and cold. They snaked around his arms and legs like iron ropes.

“My bindings,” he said, “I am marked too, but not for protection. For imprisonment.”

He laid his palm on Eve’s cheek and traced her mouth with his thumb. “You can claim me, Eve. There’s a process, and it’s the next step.” He leaned in to kiss her full on the lips and the thrill of his energy rippled away from the place their lips met.

Lucien tipped his head to one side and kissed her cheek, her neck, her shoulder. He pushed the straps of her bra from her shoulders and reached around her back to unclasp it. It fell to hang from her wrists revealing her breasts, their nipples tightened to buds in anticipation of his touch. Swirls of protective tattoo shimmered around them.

He stooped to run his tongue over her skin to find one nipple, then the other, lapping and sucking while she flexed involuntarily, aching for his hands to run over her skin. She looked at the mirror and watched as he lowered himself to his knees, kissing her stomach, his tongue circling. The glittering runes pulsated with her heartbeat. Or was it his?

He took the orb to free her hands and placed it carefully on the floor. Now her fingers could grasp his hair and keep him close. She wanted to claim him. His touch rippled over her body, riding the energy of protection, and feeding her senses like nothing else she had ever experienced.

Lucien’s hands ran down her back and gripped at her bottom to knead her flesh.

“God, I’ve missed you,” she said in a dry whisper.

Lucien chuckled. “Not your god. Not yet.” He laughed again and seemed to find fresh energy from her words. He tugged her panties down, then guided her feet apart to run both hands up the inside of her calves, her thighs and then to stroke between her legs. Eve moaned at the sensation and, as he found his way through the soft down to massage her in light circles, she knew she never wanted to be parted from him again.

Lucien caressed her with his mouth, sucking and flicking, the tip of his tongue all too briefly finding its way inside. Ripples of exquisite pleasure washed out from her center to brush across her breasts and Eve thought that much more of this, and her legs might just give way.

Imagine this with the quintessence fully engaged.

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