To Race the Wylde Wynd Ch. 19

The soft feel of water lapping at his chin jerked Templer into awareness. His first thought was that Azra hadn't left him in the barn. Instead, he was sure the outrider had dumped him into one of tubs that Chrysta kept filled with water for the destria. He struggled to sit up then froze as he registered the fact that the water was very hot. He realized that he was in the huge bathtub in Chrysta's room. What concerned him was the fact that... he was NOT alone! A slender but strong arm was draped across his chest, helping to support him so that he didn't slip down while unconscious and drown. An equally strong leg was curved around his hips, anchoring his lower body so that it stayed submerged. The sharp scent of dreamleaf curled lazily up, entwined in wisps of steam.

The Talon had faced down dangerous men, powerful monsters, and his own overwhelming demons in his long career. None of these caused anything close to the feeling of pure panic that waking up in this particular situation created. Chrysta must have felt his muscles tense in preparation to bail out of the tub. With her uncannily fast reflexes she locked her other arm across his chest, preventing him from getting up. Struggling with her just seemed... undignified. So Templer made a supreme effort and held himself stiffly motionless in the hot water.

“Azra... have I ever told you that you are an ASSHOLE!"

Templer was not surprised when the only answer he received from his outrider was a sinister chuckle. He WAS startled when it was eerily echoed by the woman he was snugly nestled up against.

“Relax...”

This was breathed softly into his ear. That husky voice made the little hairs stand up all of the way down his body. He didn't know this was possible with it entirely submerged in hot water. Other... things... showed interest when the woman slid her toes slowly up the calf of his leg.

“OH... YES!”

Azra's deep voice was a sensual purr.

Templer's whole body jerked. Undignified or not, he was getting the hell out of the tub! He froze as Chrysta clamped down with her considerable strength and made a choking sound.

“I am s-sorry Azra, I just CAN'T. I... I am going to rupture something if I don't stop!"

Chrysta's sexy voice disintegrated into a severe case of the giggles.

“WOMAN, you sadly disappoint me!”

The demon was having trouble maintaining his stern tone.

“Holy... It sucks that neither of us is in a position that we can see his face!”

Templer again forced himself to relax. Damn it, if he didn't get these two nipped in the bud right now he would be screwed later on.

“What happened to the... I won't run around naked if you don't... rule?”

The priest was inordinately proud of himself when it came out sounding totally unconcerned.

The woman stopped laughing and primly replied,

“Actually, to be totally honest...”

He could hear the wicked smile in the tone of her voice.

“Azra was the one who got naked first!”

“CRAP!”

Templer sank further down into the water. Oh yes, he was SO totally screwed... without the benefit. Chrysta must have felt sorry for him because she laughed and gently patted his shoulder.

“I am sorry Templer. Even though I knew teasing you would be fun, this was mostly your outrider's plan. He is familiar with how dreamleaf works and felt you wouldn't try it on your own.”

She stretched her bad leg under the water making little waves ripple the length of their bodies.

“He said that you wake up in pain and totally miserable after you shift?”

“Um hum.” Templer reluctantly nodded. He found that it was getting easier and easier to relax.

“Well, since I was drawing the bath for myself anyways, we decided to see if this might help you out too. I really couldn't deal with my pain for the time required for you to wake and be submerged long enough to do any good. Besides, Azra felt that if we did give you a choice... you would choose to suffer.”

She must have felt his disapproval of the whole thing because the water rippled again as she shrugged.

“Don't be such an idiot. Shifting forms when you are not a naturally born Skin walker has got to be murder on your system... I don't care how enhanced you are. I refuse to stand by and do nothing when your pain upon waking would be a direct result of my actions. Dreamleaf is perfectly safe if used correctly. It has been used as an analgesic for centuries by the Demonae Healers. The hardest part of this decision was figuring the dosage for the two of us together and Azra was surprisingly helpful there. Actually...”

Chrysta was absentmindedly making lazy, feather light circles with her long fingers on his chest. The gunman realized he wasn't feeling so relaxed anymore.

“The getting naked part was really... pretty... easy...”

The words trailed off as Templer caught her fingers in his human hand and guided them down to flatten out across the pale skin of his hard... well-muscled stomach. Unconsciously mimicking what Azra had done earlier. The priest used one elongated talon on his other hand to carefully trace each of her fingers, pausing each time it encountered the bruising on her hands. The man allowed himself a small self-satisfied smile when he saw that all of the fine golden hairs on her forearms were standing at attention.

The smile slipped a little when a warm tongue traced the sensitive outer edge of his ear. She nipped the top of it with gentle teeth drawing a soft hiss of surprise from him. There was no suppressing the hot desire that suddenly wound through his core. The water rippled again as a teasing hand sensually...

A loud knock on the door to their room startled them both. It was followed by Grant's rough voice.

“Hey Chrysta, if you don't get down to eat soon, you won't be able to before the draft competitions start.”

“CRAP!”

This soft exclamation was whispered into the gunman's ear as the woman's hand shot up, covering his mouth to muffle his own exclamation of...

“SHIT!”

Luckily Azra's...

“DAMN!” ...was only heard by the two in the bathtub. If Chrysta's destria had anything to say, she was keeping it to herself.

Chrysta kept her hand over Templer's lips and raised her voice to answer the barman.

“Thanks Grant, I will be down in a few.”

If the woman had seen the expression that deepened the black of the Talon's dark eyes she would have been worried. Constantine snatched her hand away from his mouth and his own smooth voice answered the innkeeper.

“In case you are wondering Grant... I will be down in a moment also.”

As Templer felt the woman's warm body jerk in surprise under him and her whispered "ASSHOLE!" caressed his ear, he indulged in his own sinister laugh. It was time she learned that THREE could play the game that Azra and her had started!

There was no sound what so ever from outside the door for a very long minute and then a stuttered,

“Ummm... okay then... I will see you when you fini... when you both come down.” Grant sounded as if he couldn't wait.

The woman beneath him was perfectly still, then she giggled against his shoulder.

“You have no idea what you just did... do you?!”

“WHAT... what did I just do...?”

Templer was suddenly worried.

“Nothing too awful. I am sure you both are going to LOVE being welcomed under the smothering shadow of Momma hen's sheltering wings.”

Chrysta broke down into whole hearted laughter as Azra gave his Host a proverbial kick to the rear.

“What the HELL... Constantine. Don't be doing me any more favors!”

The woman choked off her laughter and pushed lightly against him.

“Really, we do need to get out of this bath before we overdose ourselves. Maybe if we hurry he won't have the time to make the heart shaped pancakes!”

“Hnnn... I truly hope you are kidding. I think I would rather suffer the overdose!”

Templer levered himself up, fully prepared to bear the pain that usually overwhelmed him after Azra had used his body. He was astonished when he felt not even a twinge.

Chrysta braced herself on the sides of the tub, drew her good leg under her and then straightened up. Templer reached out to offer a hand only to freeze as he got a clear look at her lithe body. It wasn't the broad, well-shaped shoulders or moderately sized, PERFECT breasts that drew a soft hiss from his lips. It was the scope of the injury that caused her crippled walk. The scar started high on her ribcage just under and to the left of her left breast. It bisected down across her ribs and slanted to the right. Chrysta's ribcage on that side was slightly misaligned. This suggested that the bones had been cut through, along with muscle and flesh. It continued down, cutting deeply across her flat stomach and then curled lazily around her right hip. The muscles had healed but were twisted back on themselves breaking her smooth outline as the scar followed down the outside of the leg then curved back to the front of her ankle. It was obvious that her femur and tibia had been broken at the same time as the flesh had been torn.

The priest had a sudden understanding of Grant's antipathy towards El Diablo. There was no question in his mind that the stallion had been the cause of this devastating injury. He could only assume that it was El Diablo's front inside spur that had done this in a strike much like the one he had tried the night Chrysta had brought him in. Hot anger coiled through Templer's mind as he wondered how the woman was still walking with that kind of muscle and nerve damage. For that matter, how in the hell had she avoided death? This level of injury was not accidental. The big silver beast had struck with the intention to kill!

“CONSTANTINE!”

The savage anger being repressed and something else not as identifiable in Azra's soft exclamation brought Templer's attention back up to Chrysta's face.

The woman had withdrawn from his helping hands when he hesitated. A wary expression flitted through her eyes, only to be hastily covered by sad resignation. The priest was an expert on the fear of rejection and by all he held holy... he wouldn't be the cause of it in someone he cared about! Templer's hands dropped lightly on her very nice shoulders and drew her back towards his naked body. His dark eyes never left those gold and green ones until his lips met hers.

Gentleness WAS in his nature. The man patiently held her mouth until those sweet lips softened and her wonderfully strong arms entwined themselves through his hair to fall around his neck. As Chrysta's wet body pressed firmly up against his own, her mouth opened, allowing the kiss to deepen. She allowed him entry to stroke along her tongue and lips. He was amazed at her spicy, smoky, sweet flavor. When the gunman breathlessly ended the moment, it was to just stand motionless and watch their breath mingling together in the steamy air. Azra had quietly risen and Templer found he did not mind that his outrider had sampled the energy entwined in that kiss. Chrysta also made no objection and when her eyes opened to hold his unearthly golden gaze, they were deep green shot through with blue, gold, and the yellow that burned at the heart of a star.

“Sooo...” A desire like nothing he could remember ever having felt before made Templer's voice deeper, harsher than the norm.

“...how much time do we have before the dreaded heart shaped pancakes appear?”

Something flashed in those unusual eyes. Chrysta's hands gently untangled themselves from his hair to slide down his back and firmly cup his buttocks, pulling him firmly against her.

“Not enough!" she answered. "When we do this, I for one... don't want to be rushed.”

One hand left his ass and the man had no time to react as a wicked smile curved the passion swollen lips. Her other hand kept him pinned as she turned the shower faucet on high. Chrysta was grinning like a Harpy as she tucked her head against his chest letting the ice cold water hit them like one of the North land's frigid glaciers. She couldn't decide who screamed louder, the gunman or the demon he hosted. It didn't really matter as she was sure Templer's shocked scream could be heard clear down in the common room.

Ten minutes later, they were seated downstairs being served a large, well-cooked breakfast... complete with the dreaded heart shaped pancakes. Chrysta kept her head down, using her food as an excuse to not directly meet the glowering gold gaze that the Talon pinned her with. Grant opened his mouth once to make a comment about their wet hair... only to be skewered by the same unearthly gaze as the other man's gun hand twitched. He wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.