Warsinger by James Baldwin (most important books of all time txt) 📕

a Shadow Dance that put me right behind her naked back. I reached for her as we ran into a junction, catching her shoulder with my fingertips. There was a push of magic, and then Karalti split into mirror images of herself that fled in opposite directions.

“Hey! That’s cheating!” I swung right, but the scent wasn't strong enough. I pivoted with another snarl of frustration, but then realized where we were. We were in the Donjon, the highest tower in the Inner Keep, on the floor that contained the Ducal Suite. There was a discreet door that led into the countess's bedrooms from the opposing corridor – the one Karalti was headed for.

Teeth bared, I ran straight up the hall instead of trying to follow her, flung open the door to my apartment, barreled through it to the Lady's Chambers and rolled over the bed to the door. I flung it open right into Karalti's face.

“Eeek!” She skidded to a halt, and as her feet slid from under her, I caught her around the waist and lifted her off the floor. She shrieked, half-laughter, half-raw throated excitement, kicking out with all four limbs as I dragged her into the bedroom and slammed the door behind us. Her skin was burning hot to touch, slick with something sweeter and headier than sweat. She fought tooth and nail, but her excitement and lust and need pounded through the Bond like a bass drum as I bore her down onto the bed. Karalti wanted this. I had to trust Suri when she told me what she wanted, but with Karalti, I knew. She needed to be chased, she needed to be caught, she needed to be fought. She wanted to be overpowered, pinned down and taken and loved and bitten. She needed it like she needed air.

Karalti kicked along the sheets as I pinned her beneath my weight, crushing my mouth against hers. She let out a muffled cry and arched against me in a way that made me relax for a second – a second too long, because she got an arm free and slugged me across the side of the face as hard as she could. The blow cleaned my clock. I reeled aside, only to be flipped over onto my back.

“No more lectures.” Heaving for breath, she seized the front of my shirt and tore it open, her eyes glowing bright and wild in the darkness of the room. Her hair fell over me like an ebony curtain, spilling over my throbbing face. “You’re fine with it, Suri’s fine with it. No lectures. No stopping.”

“Karalti...?” I half mumbled, half-moaned her name, confused as to how we'd even gotten here. Her nude, me about to get nude, not even an hour after I'd finished up my date with Suri. But she bent down to bite my neck, and her perfume engulfed me in a sweet cloud that caused something deep in my hips to tighten and squeeze. “We can't-”

“No. Don't.” She was panting, drenched in sweet sweat as she fumbled at, and then tore the lacing on my pants. “Make me feel the way you felt before. Do it, do it, please, please, Hector please don't stop-”

Karalti lowered her face to lick a long hot line up my belly, and I stopped fighting her as she pulled the fly of my pants apart and breathed in against my skin through nose and mouth, moaning as she rubbed her lips and face against me. Without thinking, I caught her under the arm, hauled her up, and pulled her up on top of my hips.

“Ahh! Good! It’s good!” She bucked back, as inexpert as she was enthusiastic, and slid along instead of over. I could feel her right there, wet and hot and confused and mad with need, and I was about to cave when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

Any person with normal human eyes wouldn't have seen the shadow slip out from behind the curtain, angled in such a way to avoid being seen until the last second. I hurled Karalti off me, pitching her to the floor in a squawking heap, and scrambled up with an outflung hand. The darkness of the room warped, solidified, then lashed out as a shadowy noose that snapped around the man’s throat. It took him by surprise: he nearly dropped his sword - a bizarre, jagged-looking thing that fuzzed like old television static. I couldn't see his face through the leather owl mask he wore, but he clutched his neck a moment before vanishing into smoke and reappearing behind Karalti as she struggled up to her knees.

“Behind you!” I screamed.

Even in human form, Karalti had incredible reflexes. She flung herself to the side as the assassin struck and drove his weird blade down. It passed into the floor like it wasn't there. He chased her as she scrambled backwards, barely dodging his swipes and stabs. I speed-equipped my armor, called the Spear to my hand and charged in with a shout of rage and a blast of dark fire that ripped the drapes of the four-poster bed to shreds. But the assassin was fast: He evaded the thrust, spun around, and used his momentum to expertly catch onto and jerk the weapon from my hands. He was about to throw his sword when Karalti tackled him from behind. He dropped the Spear as he staggered forward and threw her over his shoulder in one disturbingly smooth motion, sending her sprawling. She hit the wall and tumbled to the floor, and he went straight after her with the sword.

“No!” I summoned the Spear and threw it at him. The blow took him by surprise, and he danced aside a second too late. It struck him in the face hard enough to knock his mask off. It didn't hurt him, but it stunned him long enough for Karalti to plant her foot between his legs.

“Hua'takh!” The Fireblooded man - small, lithe, with a