Every molecule of air vacated Christine's lungs in one
wild, heart-stopping rush. A whistle like shrill winter
wind blowing through an attic crack screamed in her ears.
The earth fell away, stars spun to black, her stomach
heaved. Panic turned her throat raw. For a split second,
she thought she was dead.
And then...
Silence.
Her feet hit something solid. She gasped, sucking in air,
her legs collapsing like overcooked spaghetti. But she
didn't fall. Strong arms encircled her, keeping her upright.
"Well," a man's voice said with an air of grudging
admiration. "It's been a long time since I've seen a female
do something that stupid."
Kalen.
She inhaled a shaky breath, but couldn't quite work up the
nerve to open her eyes. Her other senses were drowning in
him. His voice? That alone could drive a woman half-way to
orgasm. It was low and rumbling, a vibration in his
ribcage. His lips grazed her left ear--too close. His arms,
hard as steel bands yet not at all bruising, surrounded her
completely. His scent was a heady mix of spice and sun-
heated earth.
His wool kilt rubbed her bare stomach, and his chest,
tempered by a slight abrasion of crinkly hair, heated her
naked breasts. But the physicality of him--the meager
information gathered by her mundane senses--was nothing
compared to what her witch's senses told her about his
magic. Teasing sparks of it skated over her skin, dipping
and swirling in all her intimate places. Goddess, was she
in trouble. With full sensory overload so imminent, she was
afraid that if she opened her eyes and actually looked at
him, too, she'd climax in his arms. And wouldn't that be
mortifying.
Fully anchored against him, skin to skin, she felt his
power as if it were her own. Except she was sure if such
magic ever resided inside her all-too-mortal body, her
bones and muscles would shatter with the sheer stress of
it. Kalen's magic was as wide and deep as the sea, as broad
as the sky. Immortal magic, born of the Etruscan mother
goddess. Magic that, perhaps, could save the world.
He was holding her much as the Selkie had. But where the
Selkie had been all fluid, seductive motion, Kalen was as
solid and sure as the earth. His skin was warm, almost too
hot. But his touch was gentle and strangely comforting.
Christine found herself wanting to believe in him. Cling to
him forever.
The thought caused her to stiffen. If Shaun's death had
taught her anything, it was that misplaced faith led
straight to disaster. And judging from what she'd seen of
Kalen so far, he didn't deserve her trust.
She eased from his arms. Surprisingly, he let her go
immediately. Turning away from his heat, she drew a deep
breath and opened her eyes.
She was facing the sea.
She was so startled she nearly fell, and would have if she
hadn't gripped the low stone wall in front of her. She
stood on the battlement of a castle. There was a steady
breeze, inexplicably warm. Some magical effect, perhaps?
Now that her senses weren't filled with Kalen, she was free
to smell the tang of salty air, to hear the angry pounding
the ocean against the base of the steep cliff upon which
the castle was perched. The first hint of an early dawn
laid a shifting trail of light across the water.
"Where am I?" she breathed.
"My home." Kalen's voice came from above and behind, too
close. She sucked in a breath as the front of his body
covered the back of hers. His warm, heavy hands settled on
her shoulders, massaging heat into her chilled skin.
"But...the cairn...the tour. We were miles from the sea."
"Yes," he said, stroking up and down her arms. Magic
tingled. She couldn't help it--she began to relax into his
heat. "We've traveled about twenty miles. Northeast," he
added as an afterthought.
This was the castle from her vision. She turned and looked
up at him. "But how did we get here?"
"Translocation."
She stared at him. "I...don't understand."
He raised his brows. "I opened a portal in space. We
stepped through and emerged in a different place."
She searched his eyes. They were dark, and told her
nothing. "You mean...you can just do that?"
"It's a bit more involved than 'just doing,'" he said. "But
yes. I can."
No wonder she was still shaking. And her stomach didn't
feel so great, either. She took a few steps away, out of
range of his unsettling touch. She gripped the battlement,
as if wrapping her fingers around rough stone would keep
him from whisking her away again.
"That was horrible," she muttered. "Just horrible."
"It's not bad once you get used to it."
"I can't imagine that ever happening." She looked back at
him, then tensed when she realized the movement had drawn
his attention to her chest. Her bare chest. Her sweater and
bra were twenty miles away. Abruptly, she crossed her arms.
He chuckled.
She turned away. "What's wrong with traveling by car? Or
boat?"
"My way is quicker."
It was that. It had also been disorienting, nauseating and
horrifying. In other words, sheer terror. She rubbed her
bare arms, though she wasn't at all cold. The friction
settled her nerves somewhat. She looked past Kalen toward
the center of the castle. The rocky island was separated
from an unevenly lit coastline by a dark slice of sea. The
castle proper consisted of a high central tower of somber
gray stone, and longer, lower buildings constructed of same
material. She was standing atop the perimeter wall that
enclosed the complex.
She took a few steps along the battlement, aware of Kalen's
eyes on her. Even though she was no longer in physical
contact with him, her body still hummed with the echo of
his power. It made it very hard to think. Especially given
the fact that she was half-naked, and he was looking at her
so frankly. His eyes told her he wouldn't mind at all if
she dropped her arms. Goddess help her, she almost
considered doing it.
"I..." She stopped and swallowed. "Thank you for getting me
out of there. The tour, I mean."
"Ah, yes. The tour. Would you mind explaining what the hell
you were doing, challenging a band of Sidhe half-breeds? I
can think of few better ways for a human witch to get
herself killed."
"I...I wasn't thinking of that."
"That much was obvious."
She scowled. "I wouldn't have had to act if you had stopped
Leanna. How could you just stand there and watch while she
summoned a demon portal?"
"She wasn't summoning a demon," he said tightly. "She was
casting a fertility spell."
"At first, yes, but then she added shadow runes at the very
end..." She broke off, frowning. "You were planning to get
her pregnant tonight?"
His expression abruptly closed down. "I don't wish to
discuss it."
He took two strides toward her, his fingers closing on her
elbow. The sudden, firm touch sent a shock of awareness
reverberating through her body. Magic--Immortal magic--
surged through the connection. Her knees went weak. Her
thoughts--what she could remember of them--scattered.
"Come."
Blessedly, he didn't seem to notice the effect his touch
had on her. It wasn't a deliberate spell, then. She tried
to pull discreetly away, but his grip wouldn't relent. He
drew her toward a narrow door set in a corner turret. Once
inside, he propelled her down a dizzyingly steep circular
stair.
Round and round they went, down what must have been at
least five or six stories. At last, Christine stumbled out
of the stairwell and onto level ground. Still gripping her
elbow, Kalen changed directions, striding purposefully down
a long, dark passage.
"Wait..." she stammered, trying to break free of his grip.
No luck. The hallway was so dark that Kalen was little more
than a shadow in the darkness, yet he walked as quickly as
if the passageway were flooded with light, dragging her
along behind him.
"Where are you taking me?"
"You'll see soon enough."
He paused at a portal that led to a large room, his large
frame nearly filling the arched opening. Finally, finally,
he released her. Christine sucked in a breath as the shock
of his withdrawal ran through her body. She pressed her
back to the cold stone wall of the corridor and crossed her
arms, anchoring them once again across her bare breasts.
When his gaze didn't move from her face, she didn't know
whether to be relieved or insulted.
"So tell me," he said. "Are all American witches as
foolhardy as you?"
"I..." She inhaled. "I'm not foolhardy at all. In fact, I'm
the dullest witch I know."
"I find that exceedingly hard to believe."
"It's true. I never would've challenged Leanna, except for
that demon portal."
He gestured impatiently. "I told you, it was a fertility
spell. That's all. Sidhe and demons do not mix. Tell me--
did you feel any death magic?"
She sucked in a breath. Of course she hadn't. But that was
because she could only sense magic through touch, and she
hadn't been touching Leanna when she cast the spell. Still,
a niggling doubt assailed her. Could it be possible she'd
only imagined she'd seen Leanna trace the same runes Shaun
had drawn? Had she overreacted? She knew she wasn't the
most rational person when it came to demons.
"You didn't feel anything, did you?" Kalen said quietly.
"No," she admitted. "But that doesn't mean--"
"What it means is that now you have a problem. There's no
grudge like a Sidhe grudge. Leanna's going to be looking
for you."
"But I didn't really hurt her! I just stopped her spell."
"You think that matters? You've made a powerful enemy.
Leanna's no ordinary Sidhe." He paused. "She's the daughter
of Niniane, Queen of Annwyn."
Christine felt the blood drain from her face. "But...I
don't understand. If Leanna's Sidhe royalty, what's she
doing leading sex tours for humans?"
"Unfortunately for Leanna, her father was human. Her mother
never acknowledged her, so her rank is very low among the
Sidhe. Her power, however, is too strong for them to
dismiss her entirely. So...she does as she pleases."
"And what about you? Does it please you to play gigolo for
her?"
The sudden, harsh expression in Kalen's eyes told Christine
she'd gone too far. When he spoke, the quiet anger in his
voice made her stomach clench.
"You've made one enemy tonight, little witch. I don't
suggest you make another."