Authors: Karen Whiddon
Tags: #Romance, #Magic, #Time Travel, #hot, #sexy, #fae, #alpha hero, #magical
“Dee—.” He tried again.
But she climbed on top of him, settling
herself on his swollen arousal. Even through his braes, he could
feel her warmth.
Damnation
.
He shuddered, pushing himself against her,
before he managed to get himself under control.
“Stop,” he said, his voice ragged.
“I can’t.” Again she moved her body, nearly
shredding the last tattered remnants of his self-control.
“Dragon’s blood.” Cursing, he lifted her off
and pushed her away.
“Stay there.” He bit out the words. “This is
not you or me. It’s magic.”
“Magic. Hmmm. okay.” She kissed his hand, her
tongue doing things with his finger that had him longing to rip off
the gloves. “I’ll show you magic. If you won’t let me on top, you
come here.”
“No! Look away from me, open your window, and
breathe. Please.”
Humoring him, she did as he requested.
He punched the button to lower his own window
and following his own advice.
The moon seemed brighter than normal. He
could even make out the shape of the craters on the surface. That
was odd. And the stars twinkled brightly, like well-cut diamonds on
black velvet.
“Are we done?” she asked. She sounded more
like Dee, less like the seductive siren.
“No. Not yet. Keep breathing. Concentrate on
the moon.” Following his own advice, he could hear her doing the
same.
Gradually, the urgent desire that had
overwhelmed him vanished.
“Cenrick?” Dee sounded confused. “What just
happened? We… I.. why did we…?” Her voice faltered. She looked
away, her color high. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He gave her
as succinct an explanation as possible, ending with his own
apology.
“That’s great.” She made a sound, something
between a snort and a sigh. “I’m afraid to look at you or touch
you. That was intense. What if the need comes slamming back?”
“It won’t,” he promised, hoping he wasn’t
wrong. Exhaling, she massaged the back of her neck. “Okay, that’s
over. Now what?”
Now he felt an overwhelming exhaustion. A
need to sleep so strong he could barely keep his eyes open. “I
don’t know about you, but I could use some rest.”
“Yeah.” She put the car into drive and pulled
slowly around the building, then back onto the street. “Do you have
a place to stay?”
Before he could respond, she shook her head.
“Of course you don’t. Looks like you’re sleeping at my place.”
She sounded so apprehensive, he couldn’t help
but smile. “Thanks. And maybe in the morning we can come up with a
better plan.”
“Yeah.” Her sideways look was laced with
speculation. “But first, we need to figure out what
happened to you back there at Mick’s? Did
that Soul-stealer thing’s influence extend to you, even outside the
house?”
“Yes.” He made the admission grimly.
“Whatever it was, it reached right inside of me and attempted to
rip out my core. Pretty powerful stuff. I couldn’t move, couldn’t
think.”
“If it’s a machine, they must have had it
turned all the way up. That would explain how those two other Fae
were able to walk. They must have waited until they were inside to
turn it on.”
And made them soulless
.
Neither could say the words.
Still not entirely convinced of her machine
theory, he frowned. “Since it’s obvious Mick’s involved up to his
neck, I’ll need to talk to him. My father will want him back in
Rune as quickly as possible to stand trial.”
“But how can you approach him, when you get
zapped like that?”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “That’s why we
need a plan.”
“True.” Dee sighed. “One thing for sure,
whatever this thing is in Mick’s house, it’s dangerous to you.”
“True. Except your touch seemed to somehow
block the effects. I’d like to investigate that as well.”
“How is that possible? I don’t have magic.
And if it’s a machine, like I think, that wouldn’t make sense.”
“I don’t know. Irregardless, I’ve got to stop
that thing, and quickly.”
“We,” she corrected. “We’ve got to stop it.
And I think I know how.” Fishing in her pocket, she pulled out her
cell phone and punched in a speed dial code with one hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Mick. Even though all the evidence
seems to point to him, there’s one small problem. He’s Fae too and
he’s there. If that thing affected you outside, how can he shield
himself from it? I want to talk to him, see if I can get him to
meet with us off premises. And, I want to make sure he’s all
right.”
He watched her call, knowing that if Mick was
behind this atrocity, he’d have figured out a way to protect
himself.
If not, it was probably already too late for
Mick. Unless his cousin had developed some sort of shield, no Fae
could withstand a direct hit against his magic like that and remain
the same.
“No answer,” she said finally, clicking the
cell phone closed. “That’s not good, but it’s not bad either.”
When he didn’t ask her to explain her logic,
she did anyway. “At least that woman didn’t answer. I still think
she’s behind all this.”
“An accomplish. Human, not Fae. We need to
find out who she is.”
“Oh, I’ve already thought of that.” She
pulled a small notepad from her console. “I wrote down the license
plate number on the truck. It’s all I have to go on for now, but
maybe if I run a trace I can figure out who she is.”
“How will you do that, since you don’t
currently have access to the police computer network?”
Her grin was a thing of beauty, hitting him
like a fist in the gut. “There’s always the internet. The amount of
information you can learn on the web is amazing. Most times, we
cops curse it because people can be so vulnerable, and not even
know it. But now?” She shrugged. “After I catch some sleep, I think
I can put my home computer to good use.”
They turned into a parking lot.
“Here we are,” she said. “Home.”
The place where she lived was not at all what
he’d expected. The three-story, beige apartment building had been
designed in a Southwestern style and was obviously an upscale
community. Despite that, he couldn’t get over how each building
looked exactly like the others in the huge complex. Made of wood,
brick, and stone, they clustered together in a valley with several
hundred other buildings. A sea of red tile roofs stretched as far
as the eye could see.
She must have caught a glimpse of his
expression. “What? You don’t like it?”
“It’s better than Jack’s place,” he admitted.
“But still, pretty confining.”
With a shrug, she unlocked her front door,
stepping
aside to let him go past her.
Still fighting exhaustion, he stumbled
inside, stopping short in amazement.
Entering her living room was like entering
another world. Was this the real Dee, hiding behind her
professional and competent façade? If so, he suspected he might be
in trouble. She already attracted him physically. The woman who’d
decorated this room would be fascinating mentally as well.
The scent hit him first. Heady and sensual,
making his head spin. Sandalwood? Vanilla? He wasn’t sure.
His second impression was visual – of
vibrancy and comfort. Her huge, overstuffed brown sofa was covered
in plush, jewel-toned pillows. Interesting little knick-knacks
scattered around the room evoked other countries – from his travels
in her world, he recognized India and Saudi Arabia, as well as
Spain, Morocco, and Puerto Rico. This room welcomed him. This room
felt like home.
He turned to stare at her, not bothering to
hide his shock.
“Do you like it?” Flicking on the light, she
closed the door, grinning at his baffled expression.
“Yes. I do.” Giving in to his fatigue, he
crossed the room and tested the feel of her couch. He immediately
sank. “Nice.”
“Glad to hear it, since that’s going to be
your bed.” She flicked on a few more lights, and he saw her dining
area was decorated similarly.
He eyed the sofa, doubting he’d fit. Maybe if
he removed all the pillows.
She caught him looking and gave him a faint
smile. “Come on, the kitchen is through here.” Touching one more
switch, she led the way.
Curious, he followed her. Ah, here was an
area that seemed more suited to the woman she presented to the
world. A Spartan, utilitarian room that contained none of her
personality and appeared to be seldom used. The pristine
countertops were uncluttered. The sparkling white appliances looked
brand new, and reminded him of the decorating magazines he’d seen
his brother’s wife read.
The room looked as though she rarely set foot
in it, which made no sense. She had to eat, didn’t she?
Opening the fridge, she peered inside. “You
hungry? I’ve got enough for a couple of sandwiches.”
Suddenly, he realized he was starving.
“Sure,” he said, watching as she reached into the refrigerator and
withdrew lunchmeat, cheese, and bread. Placing all this on the
counter, she went back and got two cans marked cola.
“Do you want bologna or ham?”
“No meat. Just cheese.”
“No meat? Why? Are you a vegetarian?”
“In a way.”
Seeming to accept this without comment, she
carried the food to the table, slapped together a couple of
sandwiches, and dumped a bag of potato chips on a paper plate.
Then, handing him a can of cola, she popped the top, and took a
long swallow. “Dig in.”
He eyed her sandwich, bulging with meat.
Seeing this, she laughed.
“Your expression reminds me of how I used to
feel in a new foster home when they served something weird for
dinner. I’m guessing you don’t eat a lot of sandwiches, right?”
“True.” He couldn’t tell her he’d been
pondering her rather than the meal. Her words made him imagine a
younger, more vulnerable Dee. All her contradictions fascinated
him.
He grabbed his dinner and took a bite.
Chewing slowly, he watched her inhale her sandwich, several
handfuls of chips, and her entire can of cola.
Meanwhile, he could barely keep his eyes open
to finish his own meal.
“Great. Now I’m going to sleep.” She yawned,
pushing herself out of the chair. “But first—.” Crossing to the
wall, she picked up the phone and dialed. “Trying Mick again,” she
mouthed. A moment later, she shook her head. “Still no answer. I’ll
toss some blankets on the couch for you, then I’m going to
bed.”
With a wave, she left him alone to the
remnants of his sandwich, lights still on. He heard the sound of
her bedroom door close, wondering he felt her absence so
sharply.
Who knew? Scratching his head, he finished
off his meal and then set about stripping the couch of pillows, and
arranging his blankets.
Last, he turned off the lights.
As he lay there in the spice-scented
darkness, again he pondered Dee. He’d never met anyone like her,
human or Fae.
The face Dee presented to the world was
no-nonsense and efficient. But her apartment felt like a harem,
sensual and exotic.
He fell asleep dreaming of her veiled and
dancing for him, the sheer fabric of her costume giving him
tantalizing glimpse of creamy skin and toned legs.
* * *
Dee woke with a start, blinking at the bright
light. She glanced at her alarm clock and groaned, shoving back the
sheet and swinging her legs over the side out of reflex. If she
didn’t hurry, she’d be late again.
Abruptly, she froze, as the reality of her
life came crashing back on her. She wasn’t going to be late. She
even didn’t have a job to rush off to.
Even worse, she had a full-grown Faerie
sleeping on her couch.
Ouch. She needed coffee. She wondered if the
Fae drank coffee. One thing for sure, she wasn’t worth anything
without her daily shot of caffeine.
Stepping into a pair of jean shorts and a
tank top, she brushed her teeth, applied deodorant, and used a damp
comb to tame her unruly short hair. Finally feeling ready enough to
face Cenrick, she opened her bedroom door.
Damn thing creaked. She’d never noticed that
before. Stepping quietly, she moved into the living room. Cenrick
was up, sitting on her striped-down couch wearing – she averted her
eyes hastily – absolutely nothing.
Oh. My. God.
“Er, excuse me.” Averting her eyes, she kept
her back to him, aiming for the kitchen and the coffee maker.
Coffee. She needed coffee.
“Good morning,” Cenrick said. He sounded
normal – completely unabashed.
Fumbling with the coffee filters, she nodded.
“I, um, didn’t realize you weren’t dressed.”
“That’s all right.” He didn’t even sound
concerned. “I always sleep in the nude.”
Measuring out coffee, she hoped the sounds
she heard meant he was getting dressed.
“Hurry up, coffee,” she muttered.
“What?” Cenrick asked.
Unable to resist a quick look over her
shoulder, she saw he’d replaced all the pillows back on the
couch.
And, she goggled at him in disbelief, was
still buck naked.
He met her eyes and grinned. Then, to her
shocked consternation, began heading towards her.
Crap!
“No!” she yelped. “Hold on. Aren’t you
forgetting something? Like your clothes?”
“Oh that.” He dismissed her concern with a
shrug, leaning on the counter that separated her kitchen from the
other room. “It’s warm this morning. No hurry. I’ll put them on
later.”
“No, put them on now. Please.” She forced
herself to meet his eyes, sternly ordering her own gaze to go no
lower.
He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Why?”
The simple question floored her. “Because…
because…” she sputtered. “I don’t like you walking around like
that.”
He seemed equally surprised. “You don’t?”