Page 23 of Skulk of Foxes
‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured into my sweat-damp hair. ‘I had less control than I realised. It’s been too long and I wanted you too much. Next time will be better.’
I smiled into his shoulder. ‘My mind is already blown. I’m not sure my heart will take ‘better’. It’s still jackhammering.’ I took his hand and pressed it against my chest so he could feel it too.
‘Not so schoolmarmish then,’ he said.
‘No,’ I agreed. ‘It’s just as well. The Madhatter doesn’t do prim. We’ll have to give you a suitable nickname, too.’
There was amusement in his voice. ‘We did. You called me the Knave of Hearts because I stole yours. I called you the Madhatter because you drove me crazy.’
I drew back slightly. ‘Not because I’m psychotic?’
Morgan grinned. ‘No. Although you might be.’
I sighed, no longer smiling. ‘I wish I could remember.’
He reached up and brushed a curl away from my cheek. ‘I like you as you are, memory or no memory.’
There was a faint skittering sound to our left. We both turned our heads and spotted a long-tailed rat darting past us. I wondered idly whether it was one of the ones that had swarmed over Rubus. I bloody hoped its belly was full because it had taken a great big chunk out of his flesh.
‘It’s not the most romantic of settings, is it?’ Morgan said ruefully.
‘I don’t need romance,’ I told him. ‘I only need you.’ Then I sighed. ‘Although that’s not actually true – I also need to stop the apocalypse. We should get moving.’
He dipped his head towards mine one last time and brushed my lips with his. ‘We should probably put our clothes on first.’
I kissed him back. ‘Only if you insist.’
Chapter Eight
As interludes go, what had just occurred between Morgan and I was about as pleasant as it was possible to get. No, scratch that – pleasant wasn’t the right word. Toe-curling, spine-tingling, orgasm-inducing glorious deliciousness fit far better. Unfortunately, however, it didn’t change what else was happening in the world around us. We were still faced with a range of seemingly insurmountable problems. More’s the pity. Surely if Morgan and I could finally get it together, everyone else could fall in line. A girl could dream.
We were on the verge of entering the bogles’ neighbourhood when there was the same ground-shaking tremor as there had been during the confrontation with Rubus. In theory we were now better prepared but in practice Morgan and I were flung unceremoniously to the ground.
I tried to flip back to my feet in the sort of lithe movement that someone who’d just shagged the brains out of the sexiest man on the planet should be able to achieve. Alas, my body wouldn’t respond the way I wanted it to; I suspected that I looked more like a writhing worm than a dancing faery.
It was probably just as well. Before I could try to stand up for a second time, several red-tinged clouds appeared. And it wasn’t rain that suddenly fell from them – it was droplets of fire.
Morgan bellowed a warning and rolled towards me, sprawling his heavy body on top of mine to protect me. Mmm.
‘Ready for another round?’ I purred. A fiery globule landed on my head, singeing my hair and abruptly changing my mind.
‘Bus shelter,’ he said through gritted teeth after he’d helped me extinguish the flames. ‘Eleven o’clock.’
We made a dash for it, scrambling up and sprinting for cover. The fiery rain was picking up speed, the droplets hissing wherever they landed until the whole street sounded as if it were alive.
‘Gasbudlikins!’ I yelled, once we were under the shelter. ‘This is nuts!’
‘Tell me about it,’ Morgan muttered.
A larger globule of flame hit the roof of a parked car, melting its paintwork. ‘It’s raining fucking fire!’ Not just that, but the ‘rain’ was getting heavier. If this continued, the entire city would be ablaze before too long.
‘We have to do something!’ I glared at Morgan as if this were his fault when obviously it was mine.
‘We could use magic to attack the clouds,’ he said. ‘But I’m worried that will disperse more loose residual magic into the atmosphere and make matters worse.’
The wind was picking up. Of course it was. Now, instead of falling to the ground, the flaming rain was slanting. I yelped as a few of the smaller drops blew into the bus shelter. One landed on Morgan’s back. Screeching, I slammed my hand against him several times to extinguish it.
‘Hey!’ he protested, jerking away from me.
