Elijah by Jacquelyn Frank Page A

joined by the common thread of one warrior appreciating the dynamic skills and flush of battle upon another. Other than that, the very idea of it had been utterly appalling because the woman in question had been—
    That was when recognition finally set in.
    Elijah’s eyes went pale, just as the rest of him did, as he finally realized exactly who it was he held pinned beneath his body. Who it was he was feeling this outrageous craving for. And who it was that was responding with an inconceivable reciprocation of heat and interest.
    “Siena,” he hissed, his hand finally leaving her throat to reveal the gold and moonstone collar she wore.
    Elijah rolled off her and out of the bed in such a swift movement that he ended up staggering as he gained his feet. As he moved, he jerked a sheet off the bed to wrap around his body. He was not doing so out of shyness, but he would be damned if he would stand naked, aroused, and vulnerable in front of any Lycanthrope woman.
    Especially the Queen.
    The warrior ran a violent hand through his hair as everything settled at last into the proper place in his awareness. He watched warily as the Queen slid into a sitting position, smoothing her short skirt down to a somewhat more proper placement. She then, quite casually, looked up at him with those eerie gold eyes that always made him feel like she was dissecting him. No doubt because her people had done plenty of Demon dissecting over the centuries as they had relentlessly pressed a genocidal war upon his society.
    “What in hell is going on here?” he demanded, unable to help himself as he reached out to steady himself against the bedpost.
    She didn’t immediately answer, instead getting to her feet in one supple motion as his eyes followed her every movement. She moved very carefully as she reached to take fresh sheets from a stack sitting on a nearby chest. Amazingly, she turned her back on him and, of all things, began to make the bed. It was a harmless, domestic thing, and, to say the least, it was an incongruous act for a woman who was not only royalty, but one of the most ruthless fighters Elijah had ever had the pleasure of seeing in battle.
    She had finally set the bed to rights, tossing the sheets that had been covered in strange debris, including what he assumed was his own blood, into a corner. It was after that when she finally turned to face him. She folded her arms beneath her breasts, as if she were a stern parent about to give him a decisive lecture on manners and behavior.
    “I will explain once you return to bed,” she offered generously.
    “I’ll do no such damned thing!” Elijah barked, his eyes flashing with a bottle-green fire quite indicative of his anger. “Answer me, woman. Queen or no, I’m not above—”
    Elijah cut himself off as he was struck by a wave of nausea frighteningly resistant to his efforts at mental and physical repression. She was by his side before he knew she was moving, inserting herself under his arm to give him support.
    “I swear, warrior, if you make me carry you one more inch I will be quite annoyed,” she warned, using her considerable leg strength to propel him toward the bed.
    Elijah had no choice but to follow her lead. She guided him down with surprising gentleness and an impressive show of physical power. He was quite aware that he was no lightweight, and, in Page 20

    spite of the fact that she was a good five inches shorter than he was, she managed just fine. She had him lying in the bed, covered and pillowed comfortably in a heartbeat. He immediately began to feel better. Well enough to flush at the realization of having shown his weakness to her.
    “Don’t worry,” she said with a smirk he could have done without, “I won’t tell.”
    That, of course, upset him even more. Damn her, she was baiting him on purpose. He responded with coarse anger instead of the gratitude that he would have given to anyone else who had assisted him in such a manner.
    “Just answer my