Erecting Barriers Read online

  Lahar, the voice of reason spoke into the stunned silence. He cleared his throat. “Umm…she has a good point, Marduk. We may have been our own worst enemy, protecting our borders when we should have been out pounding pavement.”

  That triggered a lot of agreement around the table. Not only had Lenore struck a significant chord with her suppositions, but when it came right down to it, no one liked staying in. Marduk, ever cautious, tried to interject a voice of reason.

  “Wait, wait.” He held up a hand. “I agree, in theory, that the unmated should be out on the streets, but how do we let that happen and keep everyone safe? We can’t sense Beletseri as long as she’s cloaked by the ore she wears, and we can’t see the invisible demons she’s employed. We’ll be sitting ducks.”

  “I may be able to help with that.” Waylon Blau, the blue Lauernley king spoke up. “As you’ve probably observed, the more time we spend on land,”―they were essentially sea dwellers―”the less blue we become.” In the weeks that Waylon and his five bodyguards had been around, their pigment had been lightening. With a little make-up and some overlarge hats and gloves, they could pretty well blend in. “And since we are hyper-aware of both the ore your enemy goddess wears as a cloak, and her invisible demons, we could become guards for your brothers during their sojourns.”

  “Wingmen.” Candy supplied helpfully, and Lenore chortled. When the blue guys looked baffled, the DEA agent explained the term.

  Marduk couldn’t help a small smirk. The Lauernley all puffed up their chests, more than pleased with the moniker that would be used to describe them. The thunder god started to speak, but Candy had more input. She turned to the Lauernley king.

  “So about our new wingmen.” She narrowed her eyes. “We’ve never been introduced to your entourage, Waylon.”

  Now that Candy mentioned it, Marduk acknowledged that it bugged a lot of the residents. The king had been keeping his secret service, well, secret, and things needed to change. If the blue group were going to be out and about, helping to protect everybody, it would be nice to know their names.

  Waylon didn’t look in the least bit apologetic. “Until now, my men have formed one coherent group as my personal assistants. I suppose if they are about to split up, I can understand your need to know them individually.”

  Watching the faces of the guards, Marduk could tell it was an unheard of honor for them to be called by name. Each one of them stood a little taller when brought forward, and gave an elegant bow in acknowledgement.

  “Razure, Scobalt, Cerulen, Berylm, Tealach, you have heard the needs of the gods, and will do all in your power to protect them as you would me,” Waylon decreed. “There are six of us, and six unmated gods in need of escort.” He looked apologetically to Kulla.

  Marduk tried to keep his face devoid of sympathy. The divine architect had his potential mate on site, but a long road ahead, convincing her to be the permanent goddess in his life.

  “You will each stick to an assigned deity like barnacles.” Marduk took over. No letting up on vigilance now. The Lauernley all nodded. Their bloodlines demanded they secure and defend. Failure was not an option.

  ****

  Pairings were made between gods and blue immortals while Kulla slipped out of the meeting room. As the one whose future Chosen lived on site, he needed no forays onto the streets of Boston or beyond. He only needed to convince one stubborn redhead that he’d never abandon her again, and that he would have run away with her in colonial times if it had been at all possible. Kulla would plumb the depths of Hell to win her heart. Yes. He had that power.

  So far, Obedience had refused to talk to him, and from what the goddesses―whom he sent with gifts on his behalf―told him, she also refused to hear his name or anything about him. Therefore, any explanations of his past behavior, or his future dependability were rendered moot because she walked away whenever anyone uttered his name.

  Still, he couldn’t help but be buoyed up that all was not completely lost. The little witch understood that she was his Chosen, and knew the time limit on the god’s mating dilemma. Both had been relayed to her after the battle at her nudist camp in California when she had been “requested” to join the gods back at the compound.

  The question remained, however, how long would Obedience hold out against him, and would she jeopardize the future of all the gods and goddesses she’d come to know, just to assuage her own mistrust of him? Kulla guessed that she would not. The Obedience he remembered always put other people’s needs before her own, and would sacrifice herself on the pyre that she had wrongly erected against him, before letting her friend Charlie, and the other gods and goddesses down. But he didn’t want her that way. He would never force an unwilling Obedience into a relationship. He needed to weaken her defenses, win her back. Kulla just wished she’d give in to him sooner, rather than later. The wait was killing him.

  The divine architect had suffered centuries of invisibility, thinking of his auburn-tressed witch and pining after the woman he had long considered lost to him. He’d thought then, that he’d been in the throes of the worst kind of torment. What had he known? Since regaining his body, which should have been a joy―tasting, smelling, and feeling for the first time in centuries―he’d been driven by a new and unrequited lust with his intended so near. Several times a day he’d been forced to take his own persistently hardened cock in hand for relief. Not the worst kind of torture, but close.

  Which brought him to the thing that would prove his worth and the depth of his feelings for her: sacrificing himself to a stay in Hell, in her honor.

  Kulla approached the cottage where Obedience stayed, and looked at the foundations he’d laid just outside of her window. The stonework proceeded slowly, but his labor and persistence should pay off. He tugged the folded up plans from his back pocket, and noted the next thing he needed to accomplish. Some quick figuring had him dedicating his new structure in two months’ time. It would be the quickest build he’d ever undertaken. When the construction wrapped up, he’d be sent to the Underworld for three days, as was his curse, and he hoped to the gods that his sacrifice would be enough to prove his love to Obedience; that, and the edifice he would dedicate to her.

  Kulla allowed a small, insecure smile. One could never be sure, but what woman wouldn’t be impressed by her very own ziggurat?

  Chapter Two

  Obedience glanced out the window and caught a glimpse of Kulla, walking the strange foundation he’d been toiling over. Today he wore blue jeans and a white button down shirt. The collar kissed his long, honey colored curls. She remembered the texture, wrapping her fingers in those lush, thick locks to tug his head to hers, losing herself in the depths of his mouth and the smell of his skin.

  How unfair. She’d locked her memories of him deep inside, thinking him long dead. What a shock it had been to find out he still lived, and that he’d been a god all along. Wasn’t that just the icing on the cake?

  Back in centuries old Salem, having been abandoned by parents who were forced to flee rather than end up hanged because they didn’t age, Obedience had been put in the care of a couple who eventually became zealots. The pair had railed against the women in the colony whom they disliked, bringing charges of witchcraft against them to satisfy their own hatred. If they had discovered Obedience―whom they harbored under their own roof―kept just such a secret, her life would have been forfeit.

  When she met Kulla at a marketplace peddling furs for his town of Merrymount, Obedience fell hard. Always a good girl due to her circumstances, and ever cautious, she’d not been an easy conquest. It took Kulla time and patience to win her over. But once he had, she gave all of herself to him, heart and soul. She knew he’d be her one and only for eternity…at least for her life. Who could know how long Kulla would live? He never told her, but she sensed him to be something more than human. Being different, however, didn’t always mean life never-ending. Some otherworldly beings had very finite lives. Bee-Dee had been ready to take that chance.
Surely a half century with Kulla was worth more than forever with an “appropriate warlock” of her parents’ choosing, or the scraggly old mortal her guardians wished her to wed. She would rather have Kulla than anyone else. She knew that memories of him, well forged, would sustain her for the rest of her existence. As it turned out, it hadn’t worked out the way she imagined.

  Obedience rested her head, cradled by her arms, on the windowsill, watching her one-time lover’s steady, sure movements below on the spring carpet of dead leaves and peaking greenery. She remembered all she had entrusted to him…

  ****

  Spring 1627

  Obedience set up her cart early this morning. The wind barely stirred the dirt at her feet on this beautiful spring day. The first market of the year held all the promise of a new season. She’d piled her wooden coffer high with wool roving, prewashed and carded, protected under a tarp waterproofed with her own extracted lanolin. Mason jars full of the waxy substance, as well as more treated tarps folded and stacked beneath the cart, awaited buyers who would clear her out of goods before the end of the day.

  She searched the road eagerly. Surely he would come. Her excitement had kept her awake for days. She last laid eyes on him in the final fair of October the previous year. He made her no promises, but having set up his stock next to hers for several months’ worth of markets, Obedience felt his interest, and hers stirred unrelentingly over the long, cold winter.

  What if something happened to him since their final encounter of the fall—an accident or an illness? How would she ever know? If Kulla didn’t show up, it might be that he chose another venue for his furs, but it could be that some event she never knew of made it impossible for him to come. Her heart beat harder as the sun rose higher in the sky. Nearly half of the vendors were already here, and still no sign of Kulla.

  Obedience wasn’t hungry; food remained the farthest thing from her mind. But ever practical, she knew she needed to eat to have stamina to last the day and return to Salem. She took a well-worn coin, given by her guardians, from her pocket. Bidding the cart owner on one side who sold honey and bee’s wax to watch over her goods, she walked briskly the length of the market place to the vendor of meat pasties. She purchased and wrapped two pies in the squares of linen she brought, then turned her feet back toward her cart. Halfway there, she noticed a stir next to her booth. Obedience held her breath. Could it be him?

  Her feet picked up their pace and she nearly tripped as the vendor stood up. Obedience stopped. A thrill ran up her spine. She recognized the mop of curls that had become the obsession of her dreams, and she would never mistake Kulla’s shoulders for any other, the way they flexed broad and strong as he lifted his furs into like piles of luxurious pelts.

  He must have sensed her. Slowly he turned in her direction, and his eyes, the color of fine claret, lit up and blazed, taking her in. Her breath caught in her throat. How could he be more beautiful than she remembered?

  Obedience willed her feet to move, and flew across the square, responding to his reaching hand. She didn’t care at the moment who witnessed her joy at the reunion. Her face stretched into an aching smile, and tears flooded her eyes. She wanted to throw herself into his waiting arms, but stopped just short, regarding him with quickened breath, feeling the flush on her cheeks.

  “Kulla.” She gasped his name. “You came.”

  He reached his hand the extra foot and grasped hers, drawing her forward, close enough for her to feel the heat rolling off his body. “I couldn’t stay away,” he stated in that low, rumbling voice she’d missed so much. “You promised you’d meet me here, and I have but dreamed of our reunion this entire winter past.”

  She felt the heat of her cheeks spread down to her breastbone and beyond. “I, too, have thought long and often about seeing you again.” She studied his face, his eyes, his full lips, and didn’t tell him her fantasies of how the latter would feel pressed to her own.

  He groaned and squeezed her hand. One would think he could read her mind.

  Obedience withdrew her fingers. The bee-keeper in particular seemed far too interested in the tableau they created. It wouldn’t do for word of any indiscretion to get back to her guardians. Heaven forbid they deny her these trips…and there would be at least one every week for the entire season. Her heart soared. A summer of possibilities. Who knew where she and Kulla might be mere months from now.

  Kulla kept busy arranging his wares, giving her smiling glances over his shoulder every few minutes. When finally finished, he brought his stool close to sit next to hers. She was ready for him.

  “Would you care to break your fast with me?” she questioned. “I’ve procured two meat pies, hoping that you’d be here.” They’d played their flirting games during the season past. They started this one with their hearts open to each other.

  “There is no place I would rather be,” Kulla admitted. “I thank you for the repast.” His fingers brushed hers as he took the proffered pie, and she felt a jolt of lightning fly up her arm. She thrilled. If the mere touch of his hand could feel thus, could she ever survive more?

  The day moved too quickly. The pair tended their wares, sold their goods, and still found plenty of time to sit and talk quietly, sharing bits and pieces of their lives as Obedience knew young people interested in each other were wont to do. They laughed about nothing, found common ground in many things, and sent long, lingering glances at each other when they thought no one looked. At midafternoon, the wind picked up.

  “It looks like a storm.” Kulla’s worried gaze went to the sky. It had darkened in the west, and Obedience could see he didn’t like it. “Perhaps I should get my goods under cover.”

  Obedience looked around at the many vendors doing just that. Hers were already protected with her tarp, but she jumped to her feet, and while Kulla covered his load, she rolled down the equally waterproofed sides, securing them tightly with lengths of hemp. She and her wares would be cozy in the ensuing rain.

  With the advent of the storm, Obedience did a brisk business with her lanolin treated coverings. She piled two into Kulla’s surprised hands, bidding him hurry. His cart had planking that fit over his furs, but it would not be waterproofed and even though his wares would be fine in a downpour, it would take ages to dry them out again.

  He finished securing his new protection just as the first raindrops fell, and reached for a wide brimmed hat he kept under his buckboard seat. “Do you have a cloak to keep you dry?” he asked.

  Obedience laughed. “I have the driest and most comfortable spot in the whole of the market place.” She indicated the back of her cart, enclosed on three sides and above, cushioned by piles of wool batts. She put a foot up to step in, when she felt hands surround her slim waist from behind.

  “Let me help you.” Kulla’s voice skittered across her neck as he lifted her. “Fasten this last flap and you should be warm and dry.” His glance caught hers as she turned.

  “What about you?” His cart had no such protection.

  “I’ll find a place to shelter,” he assured her.

  “There’s room in here. Join me.” The words left her lips before she could run through the implications of such an invitation. A light came into Kulla’s eyes, but still he remained more cautious than she. He gazed around, standing as if on guard, until the last person in the square disappeared from sight. Only then did he climb into her shelter. He fastened the tarp down behind him.

  Obedience sat back on the wool, taking in the enormous size of the man in her small cart. If they had any chance of being comfortable, they’d have to sit close, side by side. The rain beat steadily on the tarp above their heads, and their warm breath mingled in the small space. Kulla stayed perched on his heels, as if waiting for her invitation. She drew in her courage.

  “Come and sit by me. The storm may be long.” She felt the heat of him as he moved slowly around from his crouch and gingerly sat beside her, keeping inches between them. His long legs curled up for balance and he looked dec
idedly uncomfortable. “Stretch out,” she suggested. “It’s okay.” Obedience didn’t know which one of them she reassured, but the minute their sides touched when he relaxed into the wool, the air buzzed with tension.

  “Oh, gods, Obedience.” His voice quivered “This isn’t right. I…” Obedience waited for him to finish, but he stopped, seemingly hesitant.

  “You what?” Her voice emerged unsteady as well.

  “I want to hold you.” He seemed to settle on those words, and when she didn’t demur, he angled his body closer and wrapped his enormous arm around her shoulder. The smell of him, cedar resin and juniper, filled her senses, and she snuggled deep under his arm. She had to be honest. Obedience wanted more from him in the small, intimate confines of the cart. She wanted to feel his kiss as she’d imagined it countless hours over the winter lying alone in her bed. She eased back a little, and dared to stare up at him.

  She knew the minute her thoughts made themselves known. His lashes went half-mast over his deep earnest eyes, and his mouth parted. Obedience felt her own lips fall apart and moistened them, unconsciously with her tongue. He lowered his head so slowly she thought time stopped. Not a single noise penetrated the mesmerizing cocoon he made with his arms and his head. She waited, anxious, eager. What would a kiss feel like?

  He brushed her lips gently with his, once, twice. Obedience nearly swooned. His mouth moved so softly. This man, all muscle and sinew, had lips like velvet. She sighed against him, wanting more, and he gave her what she needed.

  With great tenderness, he angled her farther toward him and increased the pressure on her mouth. Her lips parted involuntarily wanting to draw in the very essence of him. She twitched with shock when she felt his tongue tentatively run across the seam of her mouth. Was this right? He groaned and she swallowed his pleasure. Nothing this good could possibly be wrong. She opened under his ministrations and as his tongue invaded, she felt a burst of the oddest feelings work through her entire body. Her nipples tightened, her lower half went liquid, and she wanted nothing more than to be completely absorbed by him.