Spellbinders Collection by Molly Cochran & Warren Murphy & James Hetley

Author:Molly Cochran & Warren Murphy & James Hetley [Cochran, Molly & Murphy, Warren & Hetley, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TKA Distribution
Published: 2014-09-16T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

The teal arrowed in from green marshlands and across the pasture, wings blurred by its speed. High above, a shadow paused and dropped like an avenging angel. Fast as the duck flew, the falcon dove faster. The teal sensed death reaching out with icy fingers, and it dodged frantically for the trees and safety.

Shelter was too far away. The falcon swerved as though drawn to the duck by magnetism, flipped her talons forward, and struck with the force of a rifle bullet. Feathers exploded from the teal. Its body tumbled into the loose unmistakable cartwheel of death, and the killing scream of the peregrine split the air.

Dougal closed his eyes and replayed the scene, a hard, predatory smile full of teeth turning his face into a cousin of the falcon's mask. The stoop, the kill--they were beautiful. The peregrine met all his hopes and dreams, and more. His heart pounded with her excitement and blood-lust, the fierce exultation of her power and deadly speed. He licked his lips and let his mind feast on her flight again.

She didn't even land on her kill but circled back to his fist to land with incredible delicacy. Those talons could drive straight through his gauntlet and into the flesh beneath if she tried, but she barely gripped him. He could probably fly her from his naked fist.

"Ah, you are so lovely, my dear," he whispered. His free hand offered her a chicken wing to tear, the blood and meat and destruction her pounding heat demanded. Her eyes gleamed with predatory fire as if she thanked him for the chance to kill. They were partners.

The bird's power and nature married to his own will, that was what turned falconry into something sexual. When the peregrine killed for him, he trembled just short of orgasm. Now, he relaxed into the afterglow as he carried his feathered assassin across the soft grass and looked down on the crumpled body of the duck.

Common teal, male, he named it automatically, one of the smallest ducks. It was such a prosaic name for such a handsome bird, with its mahogany head and soft green mask sweeping back from the eye, with its green wing patches glowing iridescent against gray and brown flight feathers in the afternoon sun. The falcon had broken his neck, swift beauty brought down by swifter beauty.

Dougal soothed the peregrine with his fingers, caressing her lovely chest. As always, he thought out loud when alone with his falcon, the sound of his voice helping to maintain the spell of her manning.

"Yes, my pretty one. You are such a deadly beauty, just like my darling Maureen. She is almost ready to come to my fist, come to my bed, my feathered assassin. Soon I will fly her against Fiona, against Sean, against my other enemies in the Summer Country. The truce is over. She will leave my wrist and fly free and strike the prey I choose for her and then return willingly, to me, as you return.

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