B00XXAC6U6 EBOK (14 page)

She wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing at the same time. “The sex was wonderful, Ian.”

“Yes, it was.” He knew he sounded very male, but it had been awesome.

~ ~ ~

Regan loved that Ian carried her down to the first floor. This was one of the reasons she’d fallen so hard for him all those years ago. He was attentive in unexpected ways.

His bedroom overlooked the deep woods behind the house, as did a massive open shower with several heads.

He turned them on, but instead of leaving her on her own, he stayed and took his time soaping her. Again, unexpected, which warmed her heart.

When they’d been together previously, Ian had taken a lot of pleasure in her body in the same way she’d pretty much worshiped his. Still, she knew his mindset. Yet his willingness to shower with her made her almost hopeful.

When he asked her to spread her legs with a voice that had dropped a couple of timbres, she slung an arm around his neck and kissed him. A few minutes later, she was pinned to the bathroom tile, her legs once more wrapped around his hips as he pounded into her.

Later, and tucked between the sheets, she began to drift off. But her last thought jarred her back awake: Could their shared power help her to create a spell that would penetrate and dissolve Margetta’s shielding mist?

She was about to wake Ian up to talk it over with him. But he lay on his back, an arm over his eyes and she decided to let the matter rest until they each got some sleep.

When she woke up, a dim distant light around the outdoor shutters told her it was late afternoon. She turned on her side to face into the room and had a view of Ian’s bare knees, heavily muscled legs, and black boxers. Two hands held a coffee cup. For a moment, her gaze rested on all the rings he wore, ten heavy pieces of man-jewelry, each different.

She lifted her eyes to the rest of the man. He sat in a heavy wood chair next to the bed, watching her with a crooked smile on his lips.

“Hey,” he said quietly. He must have remembered she didn’t like loud voices when she first woke up.

She immediately reached for her hair and stroked a couple of times. She was sure she had a terrible case of bed-head, but Ian didn’t seem to mind. She glanced at the cup. “You made coffee?”

“I did.” He gestured to the night stand. “Yours is right there if you want it.”

She made a cooing sound. “Just what I need.”

She pulled the sheet and blanket up around her and scooted to a sitting position. Holding the covers in place, she jammed one of the pillows behind her back.

She took the warm mug in both hands and cradled it. Eyes closed, she sipped then let out a long, deep sigh.

“I’ve always loved that about you.”

“What?” She popped her eyes open. “That I like coffee?”

He shook his head. “No, that you’re sensual in your physical reactions to everything.” A wave of forest-fern scent rolled over her, sending a new shiver of desire racing through her.

She sipped again, staring at him over the rim of her mug. Ian wore nothing but boxers which set his broad shoulders and chest on display. It would take so little to encourage him to come back to bed, and she almost crooked her finger and extended the invitation. But she wanted to talk about how they’d shared their power during the attack at his home and about the possibility that together they could find a way to dispel the mist.

Unfortunately, her gaze fell to the tattoo of the hawk spanning his chest, her eye drawn to his thick pecs. A flush crept up her cheeks. Ian was all man and everything about him got to her.

She had to look away. Otherwise, in about two seconds, she was going to throw the covers back and doing some serious begging.

“O-k-a-y.” She blinked a few times and drew a ragged breath or two.

Ian left his chair, however, to sit on the side of the bed next to her. His eyes were at half-mast. “Do you need me? Because I’m here if you do.”

Her gaze flipped to his and her heartrate rose. She realized she’d already started developing a now familiar sensation in her chest, the weight of an increased supply meant for him. Her lips parted. She was so tempted, but she had more important things on her mind.

Forcing herself to the matter at hand, she said, “Ian, we should talk about Margetta.”

He chuckled. “Well, if that isn’t a buzz-kill.”

Some of the tension left her and she rushed on. “As I was falling asleep last night, I was thinking about what happened in your home, when we battled Braden and his bonded wraith. You’d never experienced such a surge of power before and I couldn’t believe I actually levitated to head-kick a mastyr vampire.”

“Wait. Is that what happened?”

She nodded. “Yes. He was real close to taking you out. I had to do something.”

“You saved my life then.”

“As you did mine.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t know what had happened to make Braden stop. He was kicking my spine. I thought I was done for.”

“You were almost unconscious by then. But my blood tattoos were alive and I’d never felt so ramped up in my life. You told me to go with my instincts, so I did.”

He frowned hard, but said nothing.

“What?” she asked.

“I’m replaying the battle with Braden. He had so much power in every blow.”

“I’ve heard when a mastyr completes the Invictus bond with a wraith, they’re undefeatable in a one-on-one. He was so confident he could take you. But we’d both be dead if he’d brought in a couple of wraith-pairs to back him up.”

His jaw worked. “You’re right. We got lucky, which is why I brought you here. Only one person knows the location of this cabin.”

“Ben?”

“No, not even Ben. Only my property caretaker.”

“Right. The one whose wife made the lasagna.”

“Yep.” He brought his mug to his lips and drank, but his frown remained. He was thinking hard.

He was such a gorgeous man and had the most beautiful eyes, an unusual dark gray with thick black lashes. His long hair hung down his back, inviting her fingers to do some touching.

Instead, she sipped her coffee and once more forced herself to look away. She’d sort of hoped the lovemaking the night before, including the surprising round in the shower, would have eased her desire for him. Instead, it seemed to have fanned the flame; she wanted him more than ever.

She needed to focus and turned her thoughts to her blood tattoos. “What if together we could enhance my spell-making ability enough to counter Margetta’s spell?”

He leaned forward, holding his cup in both hands between his knees. “How would that work? I mean, I’m about as far from fae abilities as anyone can get. I’ve never understood how you people do what you do. I know that you de-spelled the shield around the Swanicott camp out at Angler’s Cliff, but I can’t fathom the process.”

“How much do you want to know?”

“What it’s like. The steps you take. That sort of thing. Maybe if I had an idea what was involved, I’d see a way to make it work.”

“Okay.” She thought for a moment. “Well, first and most importantly, I meditate, especially when it comes to countering a spell or if I’m trying to fashion a new spell. I remember when I was working on Margetta’s spell in Swanicott, I spent two hours in deep meditation. But toward the end, the counter-spell came to me like a poem. It was amazing and very spiritual.”

“And no amount of meditation worked while you were held captive in Margetta’s tower.”

She shook her head slowly, remembering. “You have no idea how hard I tried. But it felt as though because I’d worked out the counter-spell for the Angler’s Cliff camp, Margetta had used that to strengthen her spell around her fortress.”

He narrowed his eyes. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Every spell has a signature as did my counter-spell. To some degree, because I’d worked out the counter-spell, I should know Margetta’s sequence better. Instead she’d read my Swanicott counter-spell and I’m convinced she found a way to block me. At least, that’s my conclusion at this point. But … ”

He waited. “Finish your thought.”

“I believe we could get rid of the block, if we worked together, you and me. Would you be willing to try?”

“Of course, if you think it would help. But I’m a vampire. I don’t see how I’ll be much use.”

“I don’t need you to bring certain abilities to the table, if that’s your concern, just your power and how we are together, how our power flares when we touch.” She reached toward him and overlaid the blood tattoos of his left arm with her hand.

She caught her breath as a surge of power warmed her palm and flowed up her arm. She met his gaze. “Want to give it a shot right now?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Good.” She set her mug down and leaned back against the pillow. Closing her eyes, she kept the power flowing and dropped into her meditative state. She could feel that Ian stayed with her. He didn’t move or his shift his arm in any way, but remained sitting on the bed.

What do you need me to do?
he asked.

Keep the power flowing just as you are.

But I’m not doing anything.

She smiled.
Then keep doing that.

His deep chuckle flowed through the room.

Knowing Ian was with her completely, she relaxed even more and let herself fall deeper still into what was a highly vulnerable state. Her surroundings disappeared so that soon she felt as though she was floating.

Her inner senses came alive as they never had before. She’d always had an internal palette from which she worked, a variety of colors, words, and symbols she would fashion when constructing a spell, even musical patterns.

Counter-spells were much more complicated to create especially since among her fae community, such incantations were rarely ever needed. Sometimes one of her novices would require her help. But at such an elemental level, she barely had to dip into her meditation to fashion the necessary corrective process.

This time, she floated within her mind, every cell of her body centered on Margetta’s mist spell and the block she had in place. Almost immediately, however, a black cloud began to descend within her mind. She gripped Ian’s arm and felt him respond by tightening his own. The blood tattoos heated up even more, warming her skin and expanding the shared power.

She brought that same power deep into her mind, fighting against what felt very familiar, as though Margetta was actually with her.

But Regan knew the black cloud was just a blocking spell. Much about being fae at Regan’s level involved staying with the hunt for the right sequence of elements, keeping focused. She only had to find the key to Margetta’s signature and she’d be able to destroy the spell.

As Regan faced the black cloud, she held the shared power steady. She directed all her thoughts and senses to the structure of the blocking spell, yet she couldn’t pin it down or in any way find its formula.

Ian, I’m so close but I need more from you, if you can possibly help.

Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Though I have to say you’re emitting tremendous energy. You’re red aura is glowing all around your body and your blood tattoos are pulsing in a dark burgundy hue.

Her aura was the reason she was known as the Ruby Fae. From the time she could remember, whenever she connected in a strong way with her fae power, she gave off a red shimmering light.

She kept her eyes closed and explored the images within the blocking spell and an idea came to her.
Take both my arms, but this time engage your battle energy. The blocking spell that’s preventing me from understanding Margetta’s mist creation is in front of me. I want to see if by using your strongest energy I can finally figure the spell out.

Will do.
What a comfort his deep resonant voice was even inside her mind.

She kept her eyes shut and felt the bed shift. Ian never lost touch as he maneuvered so that he could take both her hands in his.

The moment the circle was complete and he began to access his battle vibration, her blood tattoos turned hot, her neck arched, and a fiery power flowed through her.

With such tremendous support, Regan let the black cloud infuse her mind. She was deep in her meditation now and she’d lost all sense of time passing.

With Ian’s power moving through her, she was able to set the cloud spinning slowly. Every particle of Regan’s fae being kept touching the spell, pondering, examining, sensing.

Once the entire spell made a complete circuit, Margetta’s pattern began to emerge. Finally, as though a key turned in a lock, the secret to the blocking spell opened to her with a sequence of words, colors, and melodies.

She wanted to cry out in triumph, but feared losing the moment. Instead, by making use of the components of the dark spell, she created a counter-spell. Taking a deep breath, she let it fly.

The effect was immediate. The black cloud began to thin and fade to a grayish hue. Finally, it dissipated, vanishing completely. In response, Regan’s mind grew light and airy, her spirit free.

She’d broken the block.

Have you done it, Regan, because I’m sensing a big change.

Yes, the blocking spell is completely gone. But we did it together. I couldn’t have penetrated the formula for the spell without your power. However, I can’t stop now. This is only half of what needs to be accomplished.

You intend to work on the shielding mist itself? He asked.

Yes. I think with your support, I’ll be able to analyze the mist spell without having to be at the gorge. So, stay with me. Okay?

Go for it. I’m here.

Knowing he was still with her, helped Regan to set all her attention on the mist-spell. She’d studied the camp portion of the spell thoroughly during her time in the fortress. Though she’d never been able to do anything about it, she’d imprinted it on her mind and brought it forward now.

The moment she brought it to life, she knew it was the same spell that had caused the mist, though she hadn’t seen the mist until she’d actually left the tower. This was a huge relief, since she’d only be dealing with one spell.

Yet, how different the spell appeared because the blocking portion was gone. Everything had been jumbled before. Now the colors were more vibrant, the melodies clearer, and even the incantations made sense.