Reaver of Souls Read online

  This Faeroe stuff was driving her insane. But not as insane as the situation that drew her attention when she stalked into the bar before Jack.

  All of the men were staring, and they were staring straight at Torn. And a few of them were licking their chops.

  A sudden fury galvanized her and forced her feet to move forward. Linking her arm around Torn’s waist, she narrowed her eyes and glared at the men, even a few of them she knew, until some of them turned away.

  “Aren’t we a bit possessive?” Jill stage-whispered to Sable, making Jack stifle his laughter as he moved them further inside K & S, one of their favorite biker bar hangouts.

  “Somebody has to look out for him,” Sable stage-whispered back as Jack motioned to a table nearby.

  Torn moved forward then stopped as something crunched under his feet. It was some type of shaved wood on the floor, that and the shells of some kind of food that a few of the men were consuming with relish, then tossing the empty hulls over their shoulders.

  Very strange.

  These men had to be warriors, he decided as he moved in the direction that Jack was herding them all. They were all so big and dressed in leather. He almost felt as if he was in his father’s garrison, in the warriors’ quarters, relaxing after a hard day in the practice fields.

  But those days were so very long ago, he mused with a happy little grin. And of course, he had been just a small child, not old enough to know of the taint of his mixed blood, or old enough to realize that the men befriended him out of pity.

  His happy grin began to melt as his eyes took on a sad cast. This place brought so many memories! Not all of them pleasant.

  “Sit here, Torn.” Jill pointed to a chair that was against the back wall, but facing the room. “You can protect your…assets better.” He chuckled at his own wit.

  “That was bad, Jill,” Jack moaned as he took a seat next to Torn. Jack never sat with his back facing the room.

  Sable sat across from Torn at the small round table, while Jill sat next to her. She didn’t like having her back to the room, but knew that Jack would protect them all if something unpleasant happened.

  But she doubted that anything would. She knew the bar, knew some of the people, but she just didn’t like taking chances.

  Besides, with her facing Torn, she could see him if he was suddenly overtaken by fear. She thought she could read his expressions pretty well by now, and knew that she would watch for any signs of him becoming uncomfortable, then hustle him out of there, posthaste.

  “What will it be, big guy?” a deep voice asked, and they all looked up to see a man, roughly the size of the bartender, which put him around seven feet tall, hovering over their table.

  “Jase!” Jack laughed as he stood up to shake the tall red-haired man’s hand. “It’s been a while.”

  “And whose fault is that?” the man asked back, his mouth splitting into a grin that showed gaps where several teeth were missing.

  “Well, you know how it is,” Jack smiled. “Running a business, keeping the partner happy, trying to keep my head above water.”

  “I hear ya,” the man answered back, his thick Scottish brogue sounding musical to the ears. “Times is tough for us all. And who’s the laddie there beside you?”

  “This is Torn,” Jill said, rolling his eyes at Jase. “And you can at least say hi to an old friend.”

  Jase’s face exploded into color, as he shuffled his feet, an almost funny gesture for a man his size.

  “I saw ya, Jillian,” the man said, a small bit of shame coloring his voice. “And you too, Sable.” He gave her a polite nod. “I was just curious about your new friend and all.”

  “Torn,” Jillian said, turning to face the too wide-eyed, innocent, curious stare of his “friend”. “This is Jase. We used to ride together, before he and his brother bought this bar.”

  “I am taken,” Torn said, smiling happily up at the man. He could follow a bit of the conversation and he found him to be rather nice. He resisted the urge to send out a tendril of power, seeing that his control was so shaky now, but he tilted his head to the side and smiled.

  “Damn,” Jase said, and pouted a bit. “Just my luck. All of the good ones are taken or straight.”

  Jill, Sable, and Jack exploded into laugher, leaving a still smiling Torn to look confused and bemused.

  “So who’s he with?” Jase asked, still eyeing the cut of Torn’s jacket. “And I know that you two married queens aren’t into threesomes.”

  “He’s with me,” Sable said, a smile in her voice as she watched the man check out her man.

  “I knew it,” Jase said with a good-natured laugh. “It was just too good to be true. All of that hair and the man is straight. My heart is broken.”

  “I really feel for you,” Jill snorted as he rolled his eyes at the sadly pouting Jase.

  “Since I am not getting any phone numbers, what can I get you to drink?”

  “Sex on the beach!” Jill piped in and laughed as the tall man groaned.

  “You are breaking my heart, boyo. And that’s the truth,” Jase laughed as he wrote down the order.

  “I could have a Screaming Horny Monkey, but I thought that would be pushing it,” Jill said, with an absurdly serene face.

  “A beer please,” Jack laughed, breaking into the conversation before it escalated into a battle of wits. “And one for Torn.”

  “A beer?” Sable hissed. “I don’t know, Jack. Remember the sandwich.”

  “It wasn’t the sandwich,” Jill protested. “I keep telling you if God did not mean for us to eat meat, he wouldn’t have made it taste so good!”

  “A beer should be fine, Sable,” Jack added. “He’s a big man. He can handle it.”

  “Well…”

  “Let a man be a man,” Jase added. “And besides, what could happen?”

  He nearly got them all killed.

  * * * * *

  Torn examined the tall frosted glass they put in front of him. “Beer?” he asked, having understood much of their conversation.

  “Not just beer, Lad. Guinness! The stuff that’s good for you. This stuff beats the hell out of milk,” Jase said with a grin as he reverently placed a similar mug in front of Sable and Jack, a tall red mixed drink in front of Jill.

  “It’s okay, Torn,” Sable said as she looked at him reassuringly. “Try it. It may be an acquired taste.”

  “What’s wrong with him that you guys are ordering for him and whatnot?” Jase asked, his brow furling a bit.

  “Nothing,” Jill easily answered. “He’s from out of town. He can barely speak English.”

  “Oh! A foreign devil then.” Jase laughed and Sable groaned. “Well then, drink up, Lad.”

  Drink and up were two words that Torn understood quite well. Drink because he had earlier discovered a wondrous delight called orange juice, and up because it was the new word he used to describe his body.

  Around Sable, it was almost always up. The ride over here nearly killed him. He could still feel the outline of her body pressed against his chest and inner thighs.

  From the moment they took off down the rough roads, he kept being bumped closer and closer to her. And the vibrations of the machine made her tight flesh quiver inside of the leather pants she wore like a second skin.

  His only hope of not embarrassing himself and her was to lean over and urge her to drive faster. But that only brought his chest in closer contact with the taut flesh of her back and her feminine heat he could feel, even through the barrier of their clothing.

  He had to sit back and remind himself that she was his teacher and friend, not a bed conquest. As if he would ever try that again.

  He looked up at her just in time to see her lick a bit of the white foamy stuff off her upper lip as she lowered her mug of beer to the table. Then she smiled at him.

  Torn groaned and reached for his mug, suddenly very thirsty.

  With one last look at her, he slammed the drink down, not tasting it one bit, but n
eeding the cold liquid to cool his blood. The empty mug hit the table and he looked up at the surprised faces of the men around him.

  “Wherever he comes from,” Jase sighed with reverence, “they sure taught him how to knock it back. Want another, Lad?”

  “Another?” Torn asked as he blinked at the empty mug, unable to believe it was gone when he still had this fire in his veins. “Yes! And Torn, I am!”

  “Got ya,” Jase laughed and left to get another.

  “Is he supposed to be drinking like that?” Sable asked as she looked from the empty mug to her Faeroe. “Do you think that it’s safe?”

  “Well, Finn McCool was always getting drunk,” Jill said as he too stared at the empty mug. Guinness was a hard drink, a strong drink, and Torn had pounded it back as if it were water.

  “He’s not Finn McCool,” Sable said as she again looked at Torn, searching for any adverse reaction.

  “And he’s not a Faeroe either,” Jack added as he sipped his own liquid libation.

  “Is too a Faeroe!” Sable hissed, narrowing her eyes at Jack.

  “Then I am a really lucky man,” Jase added as he plunked the next mug in the table in front of Torn. “But I am not getting a beep on the radar, and it never fails me.”

  “Never mind,” Sable sighed as she picked up her mug and took a long pull.

  “Believe me, I won’t!” Jase laughed as he turned away to see to his other customers. “But if you want me to test him just in case…”

  He laughed as he walked away.

  “Beer,” Torn said again, this time taking a sip of the brew, tasting it, hoping that moving his concentration to his drinking endeavors would cool his ardor.

  “The best beer,” Jack said as he lifted his glass to Torn.

  “Another,” Torn said as he lifted the mug and drained it, then got a glimpse of Sable licking a fleck of foam from her upper lip, her pink tongue quick and tempting as she left her upper lip glistening.

  Concentrating on the taste wasn’t helping.

  “I think…” Sable began, but was cut off.

  “If he wants his spirits, let the man have his spirits,” Jill laughed, picturing a sloshed Torn on the bike ride home. Good thing he rode with Jack. They may have to call a taxi for Sable and Torn, and have to ride Sable’s bike back home.

  “If he dies on me, you are dead meat, Jillian,” Sable growled.

  “It’s hops and barley, woman. They are vegetables!”

  She glared and growled.

  “Ignore her!” Jill laughed as he took Torn by the hand and pulled him to his feet. “Time to dance.”

  “Dance?” Torn asked as he began to blink rapidly. Funny, but suddenly the heat in his blood had nothing to do with lusting after his teacher.

  Suddenly, it was just plain hot!

  He reached up and pulled off the thin leather coat that Jack had lent him and neatly folded it over the chair before following Jill to a cleared area in the room.

  “What is he doing?” Sable hissed as she began to rise to her feet.

  “He’s having a bit of fun, Sable,” Jack said as he placed his hand on her arm, halting her movement. “The worse that will come out of this is that Torn may have a hangover tomorrow. But he is a big boy and Jill will look out for him. He’s a lot tougher than he looks.”

  “If you think so…”

  Sable wasn’t really convinced, but then maybe she was holding on too tightly to him. Maybe it wasn’t fair to try and keep him under lock and key. But almost losing him the way she did, well, that was enough to scare anybody.

  But he looked so healthy now, and he had rhythm, she laughed to herself, watching him gyrate on the floor to some music that Jill had started with a few coins in the jukebox.

  I’m too Sexy! Jack laughed as he watched Jill and Torn romp on the dance floor to that old Right Said Fred song. “He would pick that song.”

  “Well it fits,” Sable admitted and blushed as Jack shot her a piercing look. “Well, he is too sexy. Look at his shoulders, Jack. The man is seriously built. And that butt…”

  She laughed as Jack smirked at her.

  “I thought you didn’t notice things like that.”

  “Well, I am a woman, Jack. And all of those hard muscles and that golden skin. Golden shoulders without a mark or a scar.”

  Sable sighed as more and more of his damn near perfect body was exposed to her eyes.

  “And check out the definition in the delt… Oh my God, Jack. He’s stripping!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  By the time Sable forced her way through the considerable barrage of leather-clad men, the music had changed again. Now, Groove Armada’s “I See You Baby!” was blasting, and Torn was definitely shaking that ass.

  “Torn!” she screamed as he tossed his second shirt to a grinning Jillian and began to gyrate in earnest.

  Sable’s eyes just about popped from her head as he ripped the thong holding back his long curls and tossed his hair to the beat of the music.

  The crowd went wild as his whole body played an erotic game of peekaboo with his hair. His arms held in front of his face, his hands fisted, Torn was oblivious to it all, lost in the beat of the music.

  This is like the warriors’ quarters, Torn thought as he moved his body to the rhythm of this strange music. He couldn’t follow the words, but the intent of the music was clear. It was designed for one thing and one thing only—to make you move your body.

  At the warriors’ quarters, it was considered a game of skill to see who could keep the beat and invent the most outlandish movements. Torn was never the best at this game, but he was never the worst, either. So as the music continued to pound from some unknown source, he decided to prove his masculinity by outmaneuvering every other man in this place.

  And maybe impress Sable at the same time, although he still had no idea why impressing her was so important.

  Maybe it was the drink, he decided, this beer. It was tasty, although nothing like Zolk’s Blood, the potent, fiery red drink made from fermented zolk plants. But this beer possessed a weaker charm of its own.

  Why was it suddenly so hot in here? Why was the room beginning to spin?

  Torn tossed off these worries as the beat of the music changed, and he had to toss his clothing to Jillian.

  He would have been content to toss them anywhere, but they were not his clothing. They belonged to Jack.

  Big Jack, strong Jack, Jack who kissed Jill, he thought as his mind began to swirl. Jack and Jill went up a hill? Isn’t that what was in the learning books he read?

  Maybe this beer wasn’t weak at all!

  But the rhythm moved him again, and again he was lost.

  “Torn?” Sable hissed. “Torn!” she said a bit louder. “Torn! You put your clothes back on!”

  Torn’s eyes popped open as he thought that he heard Sable’s voice. By now, he couldn’t see her. She was lost in the sea of men that had surrounded him.

  Did they want to practice the skill of dance also?

  No, he decided. They just wanted to watch a new warrior and perhaps pick up a few new moves. He hoped he could teach them something. A lot of them looked like they needed to do some sort of exercise more often, with all the bulging drink bellies he observed.

  “Torn!” Sable called again, then decided to put an end to this herself.

  Now, Torn was doing some kind of martial arts’ maneuver kind of thing. He bent his knees, bent forward then jumped, twisting his body in midair and landing on his feet, all to the beat of the music. Hair flying madly as he moved, he was a picture of grace and skill.

  He even had a smile on his face as he completed a full Russian split, legs completely out to his sides and torso resting on the ground, then pulled himself back up again.

  “Jean-Claude Van Damme, eat your heart out,” someone bellowed.

  “Go baby! Move it stud!” some other man called out and Sable’s patience snapped.

  Forcing her way through the throng of excited men, she storme
d over to a laughing Jillian and snatched the shirts out of his hand.

  “Hey, Sable!” he called to be heard over the bass of the music and the roar of the men.

  “Don’t you hey me!” Sable snarled. “I leave you alone for a minute with Torn and now he thinks he’s a Chippendale!”

  “He is hot,” Jill protested, a huge smile on his face.

  “I’ll hot you,” Sable hissed as she turned her back on the laughing man to stop Torn before he decided that he was still hot and removed his pants.

  “Torn!” she screamed as he began to gyrate his hips, while rolling his shoulders in an unwholesome manner. “Stop it!”

  Torn paused mid-hip roll and looked over towards his teacher’s voice.

  “Sable!” he called, moving to stand at his full height and reached for her.

  “Torn, put your clothes back on!” she called, and her words were met with a barrage of boos and hisses.

  “Leave him alone,” some man called out while another exclaimed. “Just like a woman to ruin a man’s good time.”

  Still another called out, “Ditch the bitch and make the switch! I’ll help you out, stud!”

  Sable face exploded into furious color as she pulled back against Torn’s grip.

  “No dancing, Torn! Get dressed!” she said under her breath, trying to prevent a confrontation.

  “If she won’t dance,” one intrepid soul called out, “I will!”

  His comment caused a loud guffaw of laughter to explode among the men, and she blushed even redder if that were possible.

  “Dance?” Torn asked, gyrating his hips at her and tossing his hair back so that he could get a clear view of her face.

  “Dance,” she nodded, then pushed the shirts at him, hoping against hope that he would get the message so that they could get him dressed and out of there before something bad happened. She suddenly had a funny feeling…

  “Neyt! Too hot!” he said shaking his head, but pulling her harder. “Sable dance.”

  Sable dug her heels in and shook her head frantically.

  Feeling her discomfort, Torn released her, but still decided to impress her with his moves.