Perfect Misfits Page 12

Hold on Tempest. Hold on. I’m coming.

  Chapter Seventeen

  From the moment she stumbled through the wall of vines and greenery into Spitter’s village, she gasped for breath and fell to her knees.

  “Spitter, it’s hard to breathe.” She reached for her throat.

  The troll looked down where she’d fallen. Stricken with uncertainty, he paced around her. “Should Spitter help you up?”

  “No. No, don’t do that. Don’t touch me!” she pleaded.

  “It’s not far.” He pointed.

  “I can breathe, it’s just really difficult.” With her head tilted, she spied numerous creatures similar to Spitter coming their way. “Oh, please, Spitter, please don’t let them touch me. I’ll give you more hair. Just don’t let them touch me.” She pushed with all her might, putting herself back up into standing position. Momentarily, her vision blurred. She swayed, breathing heavily, and scanned the area, looking for Rogue. He was at the far end of the village sitting beside a large tree with stairs leading into it.

  “Come on. I won’t let them bother you.”

  As they all crowded around her, the knot in her stomach grew. Her palms began to sweat. It became necessary to stop every few feet to try and catch her breath. They all danced about her, causing her fear to grow. “Don’t touch me!”

  They laughed, and Spitter tried to keep them away. When they were almost at the base of the stairs, she looked up at the obvious home that had been built into the large tree.

  Rogue sat in the catatonic state.

  Tempest fell to her knees, doing her best not to cry. “Rogue, I’m so sorry. I’ve failed us again. I’ll beg Fedor to release you.”

  Suddenly, a stabbing pain shot through her chest right at the point of her scar. Her yelp caused the trolls to jump back. She clutched at her chest, and pain shot through her body and then morphed to a pulling sensation. She spun, facing a grotesque swamp with a large tree in the centre. Unable to stop her compulsion, she staggered to her feet. As if she was a puppet, her legs moved unsteadily toward the swamp.

  “No, Tempest. Stop,” Spitter yelled. “You will die if you go in there.” She kept moving ahead, oblivious to what he’d said. She needed to get to that tree one way or the other.

  She stumbled over deadfall, only to pick herself back up.

  “Not good,” she vaguely heard Spitter say, but it didn’t matter.

  She was almost there. Her regular breathing returned. She stood at the base of the water line, staring at the cesspool. Black and swirling, the water churned. Her stomach rolled with disgust as she realized the water was filled with long black swimming creatures resembling snakes, but the overwhelming compulsion remained. She wanted to reach the tree. She reached up, pulling on the collar of her shirt. It ripped easily. Tempest didn’t care. She stared down at her scar, which illuminated with changing colors, but one spot shone more brightly than the others.

  The high-pitched voice from somewhere behind her momentarily held her in place.

  “There had better be a good reason for the noise out here.

  Oh, good she’s here.”

  Could Spitter be correct? Would she die if she jumped in? She knew only that she needed something in the tree. No… It didn’t make sense, but the pull was too hard to ignore.

  The woman’s voice screeched, “Don’t just stand there, you idiot. Stop her.”

  Tempest slowly looked over her shoulder to see a hoard of trolls heading her way. Her heart pounded. It didn’t matter anymore, did it? If they touched her, she’d likely die. So it had come to this. Death in the swamp with the black, slithering creatures, or possible death by the vile, dirty trolls.

  “Hurry, you idiots!” the woman’s voice commanded. The woman was the one she’d seen with Fedor in her visions.

  She thought of Rogue and of Ryder. “Creators, please help me.” She stepped from the bank and pulled herself forward heading to the tree. The creatures surrounded her, and with each stroke of her arm, more black appeared. They stuck to every part of her.

  Calm yourself. Don’t pay attention to them. Keep going.

  She was over three-quarters of the way there. Her body was heavy, laden with the black creatures. They crawled up her arms. Some stuck in place, but they slithered over each other, making a path to her face.

  Panic-stricken, she made the mistake of lifting an arm trying to swipe them away.

  They began to attach to her head.

  The tree was within reach now, and she wrapped her body around the trunk. Her vision blurred.

  So tired.

  She stared stunned at what should be her arm. Disgusted by the creatures, she refused to give up.

  Squeezing her legs tightly and pulling with her arms, she moved herself up just enough to grab a branch, which allowed her to lift herself farther along.

  The critters refused to leave her, but instead grew in size the longer they stayed on her skin. Lifting her head up, she spied her target.

  Keep going, Tempest.

  The hole in the tree was almost within reach. It took every bit of courage she had not to lose her sanity as they squirmed on her face.

  Please let them stay away from my eyes.

  With each second, she became more tired.

  You can do it. Don’t give up now.

  She thrust herself up and flung her laden arm into the hole. Immediately, her chest burned and stung. Some of the creatures on her body squealed as if they’d been burnt, and fell from her chest where her shirt hung open. The crescent scar glowed eerily.

  It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see what her hand touched within the hole of the tree. She grasped the object tightly and pulled. The scream from behind her on the land had to have come from the woman. The noise made the blood in her veins run cold.

  The object she held glowed the same orange color as the spot on her breast. Transfixed, she stared at the round orb with a tiny jewel on the inside as her legs, still wrapped around the tree, quivered with exertion. She couldn’t stay this way for long.

  Now what? I don’t think I’ll live going back the way I came.

  Not really clear why she did what she about to do, she slammed the orb into the side of the tree. It shattered, and crystal shards floated in the air. Her eyes widened with disbelief as the tiny jewel twisted and spun faster and faster. In a blink, it shot toward her and sank into her chest.

  Visions spun in her head—thousands of memories and pictures—overwhelming her senses.

  A tiny child crying…angry voices—a man and woman arguing…a sparkling structure and many small shining beings…forced to leave, not wanted…they’d struck a deal with…

  The vision blurred, but to her horror, she spied Fedor.

  The couple handed the child to the evil being. Immediately, the child went still.

  Tempest held her breath, realizing the horror. She’d been the child. Forcing herself not to let go of the tree and the visions, she struggled to hold on. Who were her parents?

  The male had pointed ears like her own, and was about her size. He held a scepter. The woman stood still. She was not like him. There were no pointed ears. “She was a mistake, Pinus. We should not have done what we did. Send her away. Nobody can know what took place.”

  The man named Pinus nodded his head at Fedor. “Take her.”

  He’d just given her away. Her father handed had her over just like that. The realization of the vision crippled her mentally and physically. She let out a muffled cry as her arms and legs let go, and she welcomed the sensation of falling through the air. Nobody had ever wanted her. Rogue was the only one who had ever loved her. Ryder had not returned, and Rogue would most likely not live.

  What’s the point of going on? When her body hit the surface of the water, she closed her eyes for the last time.

  · · · · ·

  Ryder broke through the opening feeling like a thousand spider webs encased his body, refusing to allow him entrance back to Misfit Mountain. When he focused on thoughts of Te
mpest, the only thing that came to him was a single tree and black waters. His heartbeat thumped a terrified rhythm.

  She’ll be okay. She just has to be.

  How the hell did she get to the witch’s tree? Is that snake, Fedor, there?

  Part of him hoped he would be. Nothing would bring him more pleasure than ripping him apart limb by limb. If Tempest died, nothing on the planet of Levare would stop him from doing just that.

  The web disappeared, and he spread his wings wide, plummeting to the spot where he was certain to find her. He had no time to spare; he dove straight for the greenery. The wind rushing in his ears was deafening. He hoped Ashton followed, because he wouldn’t stop to wait for him. The spot became larger, and soon, he could make out the mountain range concealing the valley. He descended faster, sensing her exact location, until finally, he tilted his wings and slowed.

  A crowd of trolls lined the perimeter of the swamp. He knew for certain Tempest was under the water. His giant spanned wings opened wide, allowing him to hover overhead. He pumped his wings frantically, and to his surprise, Ashton appeared at his side. His friend glared at him.

  “Help me out here. Let see if we can remove some of this water and the creatures living in it,” Ryder yelled with the wind building between them.

  “You got it.”

  Screams erupted from the trolls as the black bloodsuckers flew through the air, landing everywhere. The water parted, and a giant wave rolled toward the witch’s tree house. She screamed. “You’ll pay for this. You don’t know who you’re messing with!”

  Ryder lost his breath when he saw Tempest’s form wiggling with the blood-suckers attached to every part of her body. He dove down and captured her body.

  Only one way to remove the suckers quickly.

  “Ashton,” he yelled. “Bring that gargdog.” He pointed to Rogue. “Follow me.”

  Swooping into the sky he flew straight up out of the lushness into the snow-covered mountain terrain. He landed, the bitter wind blew, and one by one, the suckers shriveled and fell from Tempest’s body.

  “I understand what you saw in the visions.” Ashton landed and set Rogue’s stiff body in the snow. The gargdog seemed unable to move from the sitting position, and his eyes remained open, blinking occasionally.

  When all the disgusting creatures had been removed, Ryder picked Tempest back up in his arms. The mark on her chest glowed orange. He opened his palm, staring down at the same color. Somehow, they matched. Upon closer inspection, he saw a jewel now imbedded into the small hole within the moon shape.

  A large breath of air left his lungs in relief when he felt her pulse.

  She’s alive.

  “Fucking revolting creatures!” Ryder swore, kicking at the black pile of suckers stacked up in the snow.

  Ashton shook his head, looking in all directions, and then focused on Rogue. “Whose sick idea was it to put these tiny wings on such a fine animal?” He motioned to the gargdog.

  “I have no idea. Let’s leave. I have a cabin built where we can go.” Ryder bundled Tempest in his arms and took off.

  · · · · ·

  “Make yourself at home, Ashton.”

  Ryder marched down the hall, heading to the pool of steaming water. Luxurious warmth swirled around his legs and upper body as he entered with her in his arms. Gently, he removed her clothing. The bastards had left large, red blotches all over her pale skin.

  Her hair flowed around them like a halo in the water.

  Gods, she is beautiful.

  His body stirred to life with a hunger that surprised him. He bent his head to place a kiss on her forehead. “Open your pretty green eyes.” He smiled sadly. Her poor little body had been through so much. For a moment, the lust running through his limbs was replaced by hatred for all those who’d done this to her, but only for a moment.

  He traced a path over her throat and down between the valley of her breasts with his hand. His cock throbbed with desire.

  A soft moan escaping her lips halted his actions. Her eyelids fluttered and opened. He held his breath, overwhelmed by a sense of relief, and pulled her to his chest tightly. When she squeaked, he reluctantly eased off, but still cradled her in his arms.

  “What…what happened?” she asked, groggy.

  “Never mind. Just know you’re safe.”

  She turned her head to the right and then the left. “You’re here. How did you find me?” Her eyes went wide as she lifted her arms and ran her hands over her skin. “They’re gone.” She closed her eyes and let out a sigh.

  He smiled down at her, tucking a strand of her white locks behind her pointed ear. “They didn’t like the cold and snow.”

  “Oh.” No sooner had the word come out of her mouth than she grasped for the scar on her chest. “I found something.” She struggled, pushing away from him, and stood in the water. He could also tell how shocked she was to realize she had no clothing on. When she lost her balance, arms flaying, and she teetered backward, he possessively pulled her back to him. He sunk to his knees, which made them almost nose-to-nose. Again, his cock sprang to life, jutting up against her. A small smile formed on her face. Biting her lip, she placed her hands on his shoulders.

  This time, he groaned. Again, this was not the right time to be doing this. “Tempest, you need to rest.”

  “I feel fine…better than fine. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

  The fire inside him built. She turned him inside-out.

  “Ryder I didn’t think I’d ever get to do this again.” Her tongue darted out, tracing the outline of his jaw.

  “How do you do this to me?” he whispered in her ear. He had no resistance. His body begged him to give in.

  “Touch me.” She closed her eyes.

  Unable to stop himself, he let his hands drift down her back, and grasping her buttocks, pulled her in to his groin. He bent his head, kissing a trail down her neck and over each nipple.

  Her nails bit into his shoulders, causing his cock to spring forward, and he growled, pulling her even closer. When her hips squirmed against him, the intensity of his emotions caused him to quiver. Somehow, she managed to render him helpless, and there was no other place in the world he’d rather be than where he was right that very moment.

  As her hand slid down his ribcage to his pulsing shaft, he went perfectly still, wondering what she was going to do. When her tiny hand wrapped around him, he let out a groan.

  She stopped, looking into his eyes, as if to say, “Am I doing this right?”

  Fuck, she’s driving me insane!

  He bent forward to kiss and suckle on her taunt nipples as her hand moved up and down the length of his rigid penis. The water sloshed between them as the sensation of her hand and the warm liquid sliding over his cock rendered him a slave to her desire.

  Her fingers slid over the tip of his head and then stroked him all the way down the length of his shaft, where she cupped his heavy balls.

  How much can I take?

  He didn’t want to take any more. He wanted push to her up against the wall of the pool and ram himself deep inside her tight, warm pussy.

  “Make the ache go away,” she begged between pants.

  To his surprise, she locked her arms about his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist. He could feel her hot cunt pressed up against his cock. “I can feel you hard against me,” she purred in his ear.

  “Fuck, Tempest!” He grabbed her by the ass and held still until she began to squirm. The breaking of the waves slapped against them. Thrust for thrust she met him. Her breaths were coming faster and faster.

  Suddenly, her movements halted and she held him deep inside. “Don’t move,” she commanded. He stopped like she’d asked. It was pure torture. He could feel the silken embrace of her hot muscles stroking his cock, milking him while he held perfectly still buried within her.

  “You should…stop,” he said with a gruff tone, only vaguely aware of spea
king.

  Her moans drove him to the point where he didn’t know if he could hold back. Finally, she flung her head back and screamed his name as she climaxed. The muscles in her cunt spasmed around his cock, sending him into a violent and abrupt orgasm. He could feel his cum shooting deep inside her, filling her.

  She collapsed against his chest, nuzzling his neck as he held her tightly, waiting for his breathing to return to normal.

  “I love you, Ryder,” she murmured against his ear.

  He hadn’t been prepared for that. In fact, nothing could have prepared him for those words. Gargoyles did not love—not like a normal species might. They were dedicated to protecting, to serving the good of kindness and morality. Love could not fit into their lives; there was not room for that emotion. He couldn’t think of one gargoyle who had a spouse or children. He didn’t think that was even possible—they were not born the traditional way. They’d been created hundreds of thousands of years ago.

  Created to protect…not love.

  · · · · ·

  Ryder’s body went stiff, and Tempest could feel his penis go limp inside her. She let go of his neck and she unwrapped her legs from around his waist and slid from him. Searching for an answer, she looked up into his eyes. Despondence, shock, and perhaps fear were etched into his face. She waited for him to speak.

  “Tempest, you should rest. We can talk when you’ve had a chance to recuperate.” He stepped away from her and leapt from the pool as if she had a disease.

  Tears pooled in her eyes. She felt dirty and inadequate—a misfit.

  I shouldn’t have said I love him.

  He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. She could feel her lip quiver, and she spun away from his staring gaze. “You go ahead. I’m just going to wash up. Then I’ll lay down for a bit,” she responded, trying to keep the sadness from her voice.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, you go on. Thanks for saving me today.”

  “Tempest…”

  She dove under the water, not wanting to hear his response. When she surfaced, he’d gone. Her tears mixed with the water. She wrapped her arms around her chest.