Craved
Chapter 12

Damon:

Damon woke from another nightmare of Melanie laughing over his bleeding body. The nocturnal sweats and convulsions were growing worse.

Last night, he jerked back into his body when his spirit drifted toward Renee's tent. His starvation was worse now than ever. The combination of a lack of feeding and his deadline made the silver cord keeping his soul and body linked, shorten. He doubted he'd travel more than a mile before the link to his physical body severed and his life ended. Even his physical energy waned, and he didn't trust himself not to lose consciousness on the way to the nearest town. No one was having sex within miles, so the possibility of siphoning their sexual energy to abate his hunger was out of his reach.

Ken had not come back from escorting Melanie to the nearby city of Zelve, but Damon wasn't worried about either of them. Yesterday, she texted him with news of her new lover. Was Ken her lover and why he remained absent? Just in case though, he sent Ken a text saying he wished him well and hoped things worked out between them.

A second later his cell rang. "You aren't mad?" Ken asked.

"No." He chuckled. "Believe me. Melanie and I were not meant for each other. I wish you both happiness."

"Thanks, man."

Damon clicked end. Nine thirty. He'd slept most of the morning away. Usually, he was awake before the sun rose. Even if he no longer cared as much as before about this dig, his colleagues were working. Maybe he could feed off one of the other women in camp.

Carla.

Outside, a breeze chilled him. Unusual. His temperature was always hot.

He spotted her near the dwindling campfire, and his gift tingled over his skin. As he drew closer to her, his heart plummeted. Draw a little energy, enough to get by, that's all. "Everything okay?" he asked.

"Yup." She picked up a stick, broke it, then added it to the fire. "Trying to keep our fire from going out."

"Let me help.” He gleaned a bit of her aura, just enough to take the edge off.

When she faced him, a surge of repulsion surged through him. No, this wasn't the way. Furthermore, he desired a willing partner and someone who he ached for even when sated.

"Good job." He stalked back toward the dig site.

The team excavated a few of the marble columns, and Renee chipped away the dried mud. When he came up behind her, he watched her work for a few seconds. If she only knew the true history of this area it would amaze even her analytical mind.

He noticed an image near the base of the column. "Is that Sari Kiz?"

"I've always thought of her as Umai." Renee didn't pause to look at him.

Yes, Umai, or Sari Kiz, the yellow maiden, were a few of the goddess' many names. As Od iyesi she was the Mongolian and Turkish goddess of fire. No one knew she was no goddess, but a succubus. In ancient Turkish, iye literally meant master or possessor. The fire she represented was not only the literal fire, but the sexual heat of the men around her. Still, stories of his history said she was kind to women and granted them blessings. Many flocked to her believing worshiping her gave them sons.

The legends of his people said she'd found a crystal and mounted it on the end of her scepter. When she refused to give her favorite lover back to his wife and to the military duty of stopping invaders, her crystal abandoned her, and without it, she became the demon Lilith, feeding off men in their dreams for she couldn't touch them in the physical realm.

Renee traced the image with her gloved fingers. "There are fragments of gold in the grooves here, so either she was blonde, or they thought of her hair like the sun's rays." "Or both."

Looking back at the engraving, she frowned. "Maybe."

Damn, why had he said anything? If he slipped out too much information, she'd question him. Humanity only knew a fraction of true history. Renee was too inquisitive and intelligent to sneak something past her. "Just a theory. You've done excellent work here."

"Thanks." She blushed.

"If you angle the chisel like this," without thinking, he clasped his hand around hers, "you can get a bigger chunk away from the stone without worrying about damaging it."

"Right." She nodded, and for a moment, he was lost in her honey-colored eyes before she tugged her hand from his.

How to survive with this breath-stealing woman sleeping feet away from him? He shook his head to clear it.

"Are you okay?" She frowned up at him.

His ability flickered underneath his skin like an oil spill catching fire. "No." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm fine." She scowled like she didn't believe him.

"Would you mind gathering a report on your results, including everyone's and bring them to me sometime tomorrow?" "I-I...yes." She grinned. "I'll have them for you before dinner."

"Thank you." He must get away from her. Already, the sexual ache raked through him, and his hand trembled as he waved bye.

In his tent, he collapsed on his cot. But sleep didn't welcome him.

***

"Damon?" Renee asked outside his tent, and he turned over.

Sweat covered him. "Just a minute." He tugged off his shirt and grabbed his canteen. After he doused his face and body, he dried with a clean shirt. "Come in." She entered the tent and stopped short. Her gaze roved over his chest, abs, and dipped lower before she snapped her focus back up to his face. "Your reports." "Thanks." He tossed the shirt into the growing dirty pile. Soon he'd wash those. "Sit."

She paled but sat on the edge of his cot after placing her leather gloves into the pockets of her shorts. Oh, if she only knew the peril she was near. Every part of his being longed for her. For sex, to feast upon her, and transform her habitual seriousness to an orgasming tigress.

"I've been preoccupied lately." He glanced at the handwritten papers, and his vision blurred. Would the lack of crystal make him blind? "I need a report like this every other day. Do you think you can do it?"

"Of course. But why me?" She tucked a corkscrew curl off her forehead. "Others here are more qualified."

"I think you deserve this chance." He wanted more, except he couldn't give in to the desire filling him as he inhaled her scent of roses and leather.

She straightened.

"Besides, I've some issues to deal with." He didn't like lying to her, but he had to come up with something. "Just political stuff for the next dig."

"In Turkey?" She cocked her head. "I'm sorry; it's probably none of my business. Especially since I'll have to fly back to my teaching job in a few weeks." "Syria. It's in Syria."

Her expression shifted from excitement to dismay.

"Do a great job on these reports, and I may bring you with me. You can get a sub for your class, see how you like being full-time before you commit." Her mouth twisted in a half-smile. "I'd be honored to be part of your team."

What had he said now? His head became heavy, and he didn't know how much time before his incubus spirit would lurch toward her. "That's all for now." As if spurned, she clamped her jaw and stood, leaving without a word or backward glance.

He'd have to be more careful. He couldn't risk being alone with her or he may not be able to resist.