A. J. Marcus - Soul Survivors.pdf - A.J Marcus - SilverWitch

Soul Survivors * A.J. Marcus

Soul Survivors

T HE heavy aroma of incense filled the air. Conrad O’Shea

tried desperately to focus on Loni’s words, but something in

the incense drew him away from her and the other people in

the circle. Although that was the goal of their meditation, it

was stronger than he expected. Loni, his good friend and

high priestess, said they were going to explore past lives

using the special incense she’d found in one of her

grandmother’s old spell books. Conrad expected a simple

guided mediation, but this was more. This was true magic.

He no longer felt his body but was being drawn along

through a tunnel of light. Around him, the ghostly astral

forms of the other people in his meditation circle moved.

They dropped off one at a time, leaving him to travel the

passage of light alone. Then light blazed around him.

B ENEATH him, a strong, sturdy horse ran along the biggest

sand dune he’d ever seen. Conrad glanced down and saw

heavy robes covering his narrow, whiplike frame. For some

reason, he didn’t feel hot in the robes, but cool and

comfortable. Around him, the desert winds blew soft and

dry. The sun peeked over the horizon. He wasn’t sure if it

was morning or evening, since the moon hung on the other

horizon.

“Come on, Bataar,” a strong voice urged him from

behind. “We need to find a campsite to wait out the day.”

Conrad wondered how he understood the strange guttural

tongue. He turned and looked over his shoulder. Another

man riding a short horse, more of a pony, really, rode up the

sand dune toward him. The man’s robes were similar to his

own, and a long, curved sword hung over his back.

Soul Survivors * A.J. Marcus

“Come on, the sun is nearly up,” the man said, riding

up alongside him. “I think there is an oasis nearby. If we are

lucky, there won’t be any travelers there.”

“Lead on, Bold.” The words came out without Conrad

realizing they were even in his mind. “You have been in the

great Turkish waste before. I am simply following you.” The

mind he occupied must have been speaking.

The other man laughed. “What happened to the

courageous warrior who wanted to explore this land with

me?”

“He is tired and isn’t in the mood to be caught by the

desert sun again.”

Bold kicked his little dark horse onward. “Then come, I

will find us water and shade for our camp.”

They rode on through the desert as the sun rose higher

in the sky, and soon, the heavy robes became hot. Conrad

wished they would stop so he could take off the robe. He

knew with less clothing he’d be cooler. Bold kept saying

they’d find the oasis over the next dune. Even the sturdy

little horses were beginning to tire by the time they spotted a

stand of olive trees in the desert.

A small pool of water rested in the center of the grove.

The trees hung heavy with ripe olives. Bold raised his hand,

motioning Conrad to stop. As the pony came to a halt

alongside Bold’s pony, Conrad was amazed that he didn’t feel

sore. He’d never ridden a horse before. But even as the

sudden stop made him slightly nauseous, his legs and back

didn’t complain the way he thought they should.

“The area is clear,” Bold announced and kicked his

mount down the short dune toward the water.

“I will set up camp today,” Bold said as he slid off his

pony. “You did it yesterday. Gather some olives. They will

make a tasty meal before we bed down.”

Conrad dismounted. The ground felt like it was still

Soul Survivors * A.J. Marcus

moving, and he grabbed the front of the small saddle as the

short horse turned and stared at him. Could the horse sense

the difference between Conrad and Bataar? Letting go of the

saddle, he forced himself to walk to the nearest olive tree. He

took off the hard leather hat he wore over his long black hair

and began filling it with the succulent fruit. But he kept

glancing at the cool, inviting water where the ponies

wandered down to drink once Bold removed the tent and

supplies from them.

The tent was just a roll of heavy, undyed canvas that

Bold tied between two trees. Conrad watched the man work.

Once he was off the pony, Conrad noticed he wasn’t a tall

man, standing no more than about five feet. But there were

broad shoulders under the heavy robe, and a cascade of long

black hair hung nearly to the man’s waist. An olive

complexion and almond eyes screamed Oriental to Conrad.

But Bataar had said they were in the Turkish waste.

Bold walked up and pulled a couple of olives out of

Conrad’s hat. He bit into one and made a horrible face.

“Bitter, but still good,” he said, reaching for more. “A

warrior’s food.”

Conrad laughed. He bit into the fresh olive. The sharp

taste assaulted his tongue. He fought the urge to spit it out

and somehow managed to swallow.

“Maybe tonight we will find a hare or even an antelope,”

Bold said as he walked toward the pond in the center of the

trees, pulling off his robe. Conrad couldn’t help but stare as

the man revealed his powerful back. The man might be

short, but he was well built, with muscular legs.

“Aren’t you going to come join me?” Bold asked,

glancing back over his broad shoulder with a smile. “I’m sure

you’ll sleep better after a bit of a swim.” He stepped out of

the bulky undergarment that hid his hard, round ass.

Conrad’s heart skipped a beat as Bold dropped the cloth

and walked into the water. Trying not to appear too eager, he

Soul Survivors * A.J. Marcus

walked toward the pond, pulling off his own robes as he

went. He fumbled a bit with the unfamiliar garment, but his

body, or Bataar’s body, knew how to free itself from the

encumbering fabric. As he revealed the body that wasn’t the

one he was used to, Conrad marveled at its hard, narrow

planes. He’d seen guys at the gym with bodies cut like this,

and had even been with one or two, but had never managed

to get his body in this good a shape. How strong was he in

this body? His new body stirred, and he glanced down to see

a smaller dick than he was used to pointing the way to the

naked man wading into the pond.

Rushing forward, Conrad wanted to get the water over

his waist before Bold noticed; he had no idea how the man

would react. He just reached the edge of the warm water

when the warrior turned around.

Bold laughed. “I see you are eager for me this morning.”

He caught Conrad up in his strong arms and hugged him.

Rough, weathered lips touched his, and Conrad lost himself

to the sensation. He ran his hands down the long black hair,

across the massive shoulders that tightened to hold him off

the ground.

As their lips separated, Conrad couldn’t help himself

and a laugh welled up within him. “It seems you are eager

for me as well.”

“I am always eager for you, my mighty warrior,” Bold

replied, scooping up a handful of water to smooth it down

Conrad’s back. For the next few minutes, they poured and

splashed water on each other, washing off the dirt from

unknown days in the desert.

Conrad tried not to stare at Bold as they cleaned each

other playfully, but the man’s physique was incredible. There

was something about the way he moved, an almost feline

grace bound up in a small package hardened by life instead

of time spent in the iron jungle of a gym. He’d heard from

some of his friends that hung out with one of the

A. J. Marcus - Soul Survivors.pdf

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