Page 24

Warm.

At first, that was all Madeleine could think.

Haera’s mouth was so warm, a point of heat and delight that drew the wind’s chill from Madeleine’s bones.

Gentle, too. Such gentleness, from the woman who’d scooped up Madeleine in her arms—had it only been that morning?

—with astonishing strength.

Soft lips, followed by a puff of breath against Madeleine’s own mouth.

A tender hand on the side of her face.

Then the hand moved.

Swift as a riptide, it moved from Madeleine’s cheek to the back of her neck, curling possessively around her.

Madeleine’s warmth flamed to the heat of an inferno as Haera wrapped her other arm around her waist, dragging her even closer.

Then Haera’s mouth opened and the kiss changed into something else entirely.

She wasn’t kissing Madeleine.

She was devouring her.

There was no other word for it.

Haera kissed her like she was starving, and Madeleine was a feast she’d seen through a window and broken in to take.

And she wouldn’t finish taking until she was sated, no matter what anyone had to say about it.

So why Madeleine was throwing her arms around Haera’s neck was a mystery.

Not one to be solved—a mystery like they’d spoken of before, a divine one, integral to who she was.

Here, in Haera’s unrelenting embrace, Madeleine stumbled over all her questions and, finally, into herself.

She kissed Haera back wildly.

It was what her mouth had been made to do.

Not to mouth prayers or stammer excuses, but to kiss this woman.

Her breasts pressed just beneath Haera’s own, their bodies fit together perfectly, they aligned without a molecule of air to interfere between them.

And the ache from her dream returned in full force, as if it had only been lying in wait.

In a breath’s space, she became an empty vessel, hollowed out and absent her purpose until she was filled.

She cried out softly.

Haera opened her mouth, and the kiss grew deeper, and deeper.

Madeleine dug her fingers into Haera’s strong shoulders, feeling as wobbly as when she’d fallen to the floor this morning.

She couldn’t fall. Not if falling would end this, the moment in which she was finally coming to life.

She didn’t have to worry.

Haera wouldn’t let her fall.

Haera was pushing her back toward the alley wall, between two planters, until Madeleine’s back was pressed against leaves.

No roses here, no thorns, only the soft rustle of ivy.

And yet the scent of flowers filled the air, along with Haera’s own scent—salt and sea.

“Yes,” Haera breathed, “yes.”

“Yes—” It broke from Madeleine in a moan.

Haera growled. She cupped Madeleine’s rear end, just like in her dream, only Madeleine wasn’t naked this time.

Layers of clothing separated them, and Madeleine whined in the back of her throat at the deprivation.

Skin on skin—oh God, what a delight that would be, what a necessary thing, and she didn’t have it?—

But Haera’s hands were warm through the thick fabric of her jeans.

And her thigh pressed between Madeleine’s own, urging her forward, making her rock.

Pressure. Divine pressure in her most sensitive place.

Madeleine cried out softly against Haera’s mouth, her hands scrabbling over Haera’s shoulders as she rose up on her toes, seeking more, and then more.

She got more. Haera gave it to her, rubbing Madeleine back and forth on her thigh with that inexorable strength, making Madeleine sob with need.

It couldn’t be possible.

How was she this turned on, this quickly?—?

Not quickly. It was the work of decades, and Madeleine was starving too.

She ground on Haera’s leg in search of more while they kissed and kissed, moaning against that ferocious mouth.

Back and forth, faster, harder.

“More,” Haera gasped, as if she’d read Madeleine’s mind.

Faster. Harder. “Yuh-yes?—”

“More!”

Her thigh withdrew, taking the glorious pressure with it.

Madeleine bucked her hips forward, a gasp of protest escaping her, but then—then something else was there?—

Haera’s hand?—

Madeleine’s knees buckled.

It wasn’t enough. She didn’t know anything could feel like this much, and she still didn’t have enough .

Haera cupped her through her jeans, finding the same perfect rhythm.

Her other hand still grabbed Madeleine’s rear, holding her firmly in place to be fondled, stroked and rocked and cradled.

She created the pace, dictated the speed of Madeleine’s pleasure, as if it didn’t occur to her to do otherwise.

It got Madeleine wetter than anything ever had in her life.

She cried out again, muffled by kisses.

Between her legs she was heavy, swelling.

The seam of her jeans was a torment, but she rutted against it anyway because it was stimulation, it was something after decades of nothing, and even discomfort was better than lack.

She’d had so much of lack.

Now she might have?—

“I can make you do it.” The words curled in a hot promise from Haera’s mouth into Madeleine’s.

“I can make you come.”

“Oh!” Madeleine’s hips rocked faster, chasing that promise.

More, she still needed more.

She was so wet—was it enough to soak into her jeans?

Could Haera feel how wet she was?

“You’re so beautiful!” Haera tore her mouth from Madeleine’s, and suddenly that mouth was at Madeleine’s neck, nuzzling at the skin above her jacket collar.

“I’ll do it to you. I can do it, I know how.”

“Do it to me,” Madeleine whimpered, unable to stop herself.

“Oh God, my God, do it?—”

For a terrible moment, Haera’s hand went still.

Her mouth moved against Madeleine’s skin.

“I,” she whispered, “am not your God.”

Then her teeth sank into Madeleine’s neck.

It should have hurt, probably.

It should have been terrifying, certainly.

Instead, the pressure of Haera’s teeth made spots dance in front of Madeleine’s eyes.

Seeing stars while the sun was out.

Pain at her neck, pleasure between her legs, two halves that made a thing complete.

She couldn’t have one without the other, she needed Haera’s teeth as much as she needed her hand, she needed all of it, and this was why she’d come to Jorsay.

It was here, the answer was right here, she hadn’t known, she’d had no idea?—

Oh dear Jesus, she was about to?—

“Oi! Keep it to yourselves!”

The words rained down from above like a bucket of cold water.

Haera’s head reared back, and Madeleine pulled her own head away so quickly she bumped it against the wall.

Together, they looked up to see a window slamming, the voice’s owner unseen.

The shutting of the window shut something inside Madeleine too.

There was no air in her lungs, and that was no longer because of Haera’s kiss.

Her arousal drained away instantly.

You did it. You did it, and someone saw you .

Her body curled in on itself.

She tugged her arms from Haera’s neck to hold them in front of herself, her hands shaking until she clenched them into fists as she looked away from Haera toward the ground, at the cobblestones’ uneven height.

She couldn’t move. She could barely breathe.

“I’ll kill them.”

Haera’s voice was rock-rough.

It dragged Madeleine right back into the moment.

She gaped at Haera, who was looking up at the closed window with her teeth bared.

“What?” Madeleine choked.

“I said, I’ll…” Haera looked back down at Madeleine, who pressed back farther against the wall at that look.

Her amber eyes had turned all to golden fire, like nothing Madeleine had ever seen in her life.

Such eyes didn’t belong to an ordinary person—they couldn’t possibly?—

Madeleine’s eyes widened as several images collided in her mind, knocking shame into the background.

Haera looming over Madeleine now in the alley, eyes aflame.

Haera towering over her in the movie room at Skara Brae, all in silhouette—a moment that had taken Madeleine out of herself because it was so familiar, because?—

Because it had been a woman’s shape looming over her with a shadowed face, with burning eyes, while Madeleine lay helpless and overwhelmed on the beach…

“That is, of course I won’t. I only meant…” Haera’s shoulders rose and fell with her rapid breath.

Her pulse raced at the base of her throat.

She curled her hands around Madeleine’s arms again.

“We don’t have to stop. Let’s go somewhere else. The farm…no, your hotel is closer, isn’t it? Let’s go, please ?—”

No, Madeleine could have said, or I can’t do this, it’s wrong, but none of that came out of her mouth.

Something else did instead.

She whispered, “Are you my angel?”

Angel.

Madeleine had defined that for Haera not so long ago.

She’d said her Scriptures described them as beings of terrible aspect, more frightening than comforting.

Right now, that seemed fitting.

When they’d been interrupted, Haera’s instinct had been to tear the interloper apart with her teeth.

I’ll kill them, she’d said, with no idea who “they” were, only knowing that they must be destroyed for interfering with destiny.

Her destiny—to kiss and touch Madeleine forever, or at least until they’d both reached that shattering climax she’d only experienced with herself so far.

She couldn’t say that.

She could only look down into Madeleine’s face, flushed and beautiful, looking back at Haera as if she’d never seen anything like her before.

Her eyes begged for an answer while her body strained in obvious panic against Haera’s embrace.

“I’m not an angel,” Haera said, which was completely true.

“Then what are…”

Haera’s heart stopped.

Her breath did too, frozen in her chest. Madeleine was about to ask, What are you?

Only moments ago, the question had had a different tone.

Now, either the truth or a lie would destroy Haera.

“Madeleine,” she blurted, but no other words followed.

What words even mattered, next to that name?

Madeleine stared at Haera, but the flush was fading from her cheeks, and the wildness from her eyes.

Haera’s gaze dropped to the mouth she’d just kissed.

She’d kissed it once before: that night on the beach.

How could it be even better now?

Even more all consuming?

Madeleine closed her eyes and groaned.

“Oh, my goodness. You must think I’m insane. I can’t believe I just said that.”

Relief weakened Haera’s knees.

“I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“I can’t believe I just did that, either.” Madeleine was shaking, minutely, in Haera’s arms. “I’m…I’m sorry. So sorry. It must have been the wine.”

Oh no.

If Haera couldn’t excuse her way out of this mess, Madeleine couldn’t either.

“You told me it wasn’t affecting you that much.”

Madeleine still didn’t look at her.

“Maybe I was wrong. I must have been. I don’t do things like that, I don’t…I don’t kiss women, that’s not right, it’s…”

“You kissed me,” Haera said.

“And it was very right.”

Madeleine went still against her.

“Is this about everything you’ve read?” Haera pressed.

“Is it those doubts you told me about? Your questions?” She let go of Madeleine’s arms to take her hands instead, pressing them to her own chest. “Were they about this? About me?”

“No! That is—” Madeleine tugged her wrists backward.

“Yes and no? Please, I can’t think. Let me go!”

“If I do, will you run?” If she did, how fast?

Madeleine couldn’t be as swift as Haera, certainly not in Haera’s horse form, when she could tear up a field’s soil with the sharpest hooves that had ever seen land.

“No, I won’t run . Let go, I said.”

Haera saw that Madeleine wouldn’t run, and she let go.

Madeleine probably couldn’t, considering that her knees wobbled the instant Haera set her free.

Madeleine looked up at the closed window.

“Who saw us?”

“I don’t know.” Which is for the best. Haera couldn’t help a snarl.

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t know them. Why should you care?”

“I know I shouldn’t.” Madeleine pushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

Her hand had stopped shaking, but she seemed to be having trouble meeting Haera’s eyes again.

“I know I shouldn’t put stock in earthly opinions, and I know I didn’t hurt whoever that was, I know...”

Haera’s lips pulled back farther over her teeth.

“You don’t know much at all. That’s why you’re here.”

Madeleine looked at her again, eyes wide.

“Here I am!” Haera spread her arms. “You said you came here looking for answers. I’m one of them, even if we don’t know the question. Can’t you see that?”

Madeleine might not know Haera for what she truly was, but they were bound together by a greater force.

Whatever name it bore—God, the Great Mare, or something else—didn’t matter.

“Impossible,” Madeleine said.

“I can’t be here just to meet you, find you attractive, and realize I’m gay!”

At the last word, she went pale, then clutched her jacket over her heart.

Her eyes looked up at Haera as if she couldn’t believe what she was looking at—or what she’d just said.

“Gay?” Haera said, when it became clear Madeleine had no follow-up.

“You mean homosexual, right?”

“Oh my Lord.” Madeleine pushed past Haera toward the mouth of the alley that led to Thornhill’s main thoroughfare.

Haera couldn’t help it: her hand extended after Madeleine to seize her, pull her back.

Madeleine tugged away and kept going.

“You said you wouldn’t run!” Haera shouted.

Madeleine froze in place.

Then she turned, the look in her eyes so bleak that anything Haera might have said died between her teeth like a fish.

“I need time, okay?” Madeleine whispered.

“I didn’t expect any of this. I have to think.”

“What’s there to think about?” Haera took one step forward.

If that interfering bastard opened the window again, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.

“I want you, and you want me. Can’t we figure it out together? Let me go wherever you’re going, I don’t care?—”

“Haera—”

“Don’t leave me behind!”

Oh shite.

She’d barely managed to choke down one more word: “again.” Don’t leave me behind again.

Return to me.

Madeleine wrapped her arms around herself like she had that night she’d come to dinner, when she and Haera had spoken by the pasture with no idea this lay ahead.

She repeated, “I need time to think.”

“How much time?” Maybe Haera should slow down—Jonathan said she tended to “charge like a bull”—but nothing seemed less possible right now.

If she slowed down, Madeleine might speed up.

“I don’t know. A couple of days.”

“ Days? ”

“Or more. It’s up to me,” Madeleine snapped.

She seemed to see something in Haera’s face—desperation, maybe—and for a moment, her own expression softened.

“We’ll talk again. I promise. But I have to go. Don’t follow me, just go home.”

Without another word, she bolted out of the alley, turned the corner, and was gone.

Haera stood alone, surrounded by flowers whose purpose she didn’t understand, body still aching for what had left her.

Just go home, Madeleine had said, meaning the farm.

If she’d stayed another moment, Haera could have explained something important.

She’d found her home at last, and it was in Madeleine Laurent’s arms.

Madeleine couldn’t go back to the hotel.

The front desk was officially closed by now, but Harry Duggan was the type to linger and chat up anyone who came through the door.

After what had happened earlier that day—her tumble down the stairs, Haera sweeping her up as if she were a fainting maiden—it would be better to jump off a cliff than face him.

Where was there to go?

The shops were closed, and the chippy didn’t have tables, just a counter where you ordered food.

The Sunrise Café stood across the street, dark and silent.

Madeleine shivered as she walked past it.

The sun touched the horizon now, and the night’s chill was drawing in.

She couldn’t just pace Thornhill’s streets, waiting for some sign that she wasn’t delusional or damned.

One place was still open, and it’d stay open later than everywhere else on the island.

Neither Haera nor Jonathan were likely to show up.

Madeleine turned her steps toward the Kestrel, Jorsay’s only pub.

One-and-a-half glasses of wine had been enough to get her in trouble.

She’d just buy a drink for courtesy’s sake, no matter how tempting it was to lose herself in an alcoholic haze.

Then again, she’d had a hard time resisting temptation lately.