gargoyles

The Defiler will not have you, Felicity. I have claimed you for myself."The rumble of those words, soft and dark, sent shivers racing through her. Her imagination supplied all sorts of images of ways she could be claimed by him, and none of them had anything to do with evil.Heat flooded her cheek, then wormed its way lower. It built in the pit of her belly until she couldn't bear it anymore. Her hand shifted from his shoulder to his cheek, and she lifted herself up on her toes."Show me," she whispered, just before she pressed her lips to his.

Religious figures, gargoyles, and grotesques, she though, looked fine on Gothic cathedrals, but she'd always spent more time looking at the murals inside the buildings than the carvings outside.So why did this one seem to have captured all her attention?

So this gargoyle you're looking for, she could imagine herself saying. It wouldn't happen to have freaky magical powers, or the ability to devour human souls, would it?

Wherever his gaze touched her, she felt as if flames licked at her skin, and the thought of what it might do to her to feel his tongue follow suit had her eyes drifting shut on a moan.Spar chuckled softly and leaned closer until his breath teased the rim of her ear. "I would pay more than a penny for those thoughts, little human, were I not filled with such vivid imaginings of my own.

Heat rose to her cheeks. The man made love to her one time, and already she couldn't wait to touch him again. He should be labeled a controlled substance to keep potential addicts like her safe from his influence.

We get chased by orcs, I__ tripping you and running the other direction.

My name is Spar. I am neither called Rocky nor made of rock. I am a Guardian, one of those warriors who were summoned to battle against the Seven demons of the Darkness and to prevent their possible return to this human plane of existence. I consider the others of my kind to be my brothers.

When he expressed his feelings for her - always here like this, while he touched her or made love to her - he used words of possession and passion. He told her they belonged to each other, that she was his, that he was her mate. And he made love to her like a starving man, as if he couldn't get enough of her.

You have a surprisingly logical mind, for a human. And a female. And a witch.

Her ankle was screaming like a blonde in a horror flick... Huffing a little, she once more wished that being a witch was lot more like Harry Potter made it out to be and a lot less like being a good cook. This whole situation would be vastly improved if all she had to do was dig her magic wand out of her bag, point it at the security guards chasing her, and shout, "Stupefy!

Why do you cry?""I almost lost you...""You cannot lose me, not when you are part of me...You cannot lose has become part of you.

You know, in human society, it's considered impolite to molest a sleeping person. In fact, it's seen as pretty creepy." His gaze shot to her face and found her regarding him through dark eyes heavy with sleep but lit with amusement rather than indignation. He felt himself relax slightly and continued to explore the fascinating contours of her calf and thigh. "Then as you are now awake, I may continue without fear.

The blade was sharp enough that she didn't feel the initial prick, but it didn't matter. The earth beside her opened up and the knife slid from her attacker's suddenly nerveless hand, thudding to the ground about the same time she did. His grip on her hand disappeared the instant that something else emerged in a blast of stone and magic. Wynn's cavalry had arrived, in the form of one very large and very angry Guardian, a Guardian that was supposed to be nothing but the teeny-tiny pieces still scattered around her. Huh. How about that?

Wynn picked up the note, unfolded it, and read aloud. "'Call Wynnie-the-Pooh. Out of salt. Important. Dig on Coleman, Garvey/CG Towers, Uncle Griffin. Paris. Bank for box.

Her eyes scanned the room and spotted her cell phone lying on the coffee table at least three whole feet away from her hands. She groaned. This was when she didn't want to be a witch, she wanted to be a Jedi, so she could use the Force to make her phone fly right into her hand. What the hell, right? Lifting one arm she reached out an open hand toward the small electronic device. Use the Force, Wynn, she thought and had to stifle a slightly punch-drunk giggle. From his seat in the oversized chair, Knox eyed her strangely. After a moment, she gave up and dropped her hand to her side, rolling her head along the sofa cusions to meet her mate's gaze. "What were just doing?" he asked warily. "Using the Force." He looked from her to the table and back again. "Did you do this successfully?" She shook her head and grinned. "The Force is weak with this one. I'll never be a Jedi Master.

He wanted to claim her, to possess her and be possessed, to sink into her soul until neither of them could tell their own being from the other.

She tilted her head to glare up at him. "There you go with the 'little witch' thing again. What did I tell you about that?" Knox grinned unrepentantly. "What can I say? You have bewitched me.

Knox emerged into the human world aware of two things - that the woman beneath him must be protected, and that the man clutched in his large, claw-tipped hands needed to die. It was just a matter of how and how soon. He would personally prefer bloody and right now, but something urged him to caution.