Secret Worlds (253 page)

“Shouldn’t it be the FBI or something? Scotland Yard?” Wasn’t that what they used over here?

He laughed. “Mortals canna know about this. Anyway, it’s no’ a brute force operation—usually. It’s more of a diplomatic or intellectual one. The university doesn’t teach many classes—it’s more of a research institution that tries to keep a handle on what heavens and hells exist. When necessary, we keep the peace, either through diplomacy with the gods, magic, or the Praesidium.”

“So, if it’s all about belief, are you an immortal in the Praesidium because of your religion?”

“Nay, those of us called
immortals
are simply those whose bodies won’t deteriorate with age. And we’re damned hard to kill. The title
Mythean
suits us better than
immortal
, since we’re all immortal, in one way or another.”

“Everyone at the university?”

“Everyone on earth. It’s no’ easy to snuff out the energy of a soul. Those people who die on earth lose only their physical bodies. Their soul and their consciousness pass on to the next place they believe they’ll go—Christian Heaven or Hell, Valhalla, Elysium, Hades, reincarnation, take your pick. Mytheans are aware of the existence of the heavens and hells, though we spend most of our time on earth.”

“Belief is all it takes?”

“Belief is like a window. It allows people to see the road they need to take to get to the next place. For mortals, earth is just one stop on a very long journey.”

“Then why would someone ever choose hell?”

“Ah, lassie, that’s the beauty of the universe. Just because you believe in heaven and think you’ll end up there doesn’t necessarily mean you will. You’re still subject to the general rules of your religion, though the university still doesn’t know all the details of how that works.”

“That’s a good argument for ascribing to a religion that has no hell, then, isn’t it?”

He grinned and the sight made her catch her breath. “Truer words were never spoken.”

“Were you born a Mythean?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I was made one when I was invited to the Praesidium. When the last of my family died, I…”

“You?” she prodded gently.

He shifted in his seat, clearly debating whether or not to tell her. She wanted to prod him again, but resisted.

“My family was killed before I was made immortal. My mother and sisters—gone to our enemy’s blade in an afternoon. A year later, so was the woman I loved. I...failed them.” His jaw clenched. “When I attacked the army responsible, I dinna intend to come back.”

“You were going to kill yourself?”

“Nay. I expected one of them to handle that job. But none of them were up to the task. Apparently killing that many soldiers in one go impressed Aerten, the Celtic goddess of fate. She granted me a post as an Mythean Guardian.”

“But why would you want to live forever?”

“I dinna. Still doona. But I failed my family. This is a way—” He swallowed hard before continuing. “—to make amends.”

“You must have loved them very much.”

“Aye.”

“It’s been a long time since then, hasn’t it?”

He hesitated, a frown pulling at his mouth. “Over three hundred years.”

“Wow, that’s an incredibly long time.”

He nodded, shifted in his seat. “You have family back in America?”

“No.”

“At all?”

“No. My parents died.” Her hands tightened into fists.

“I’m sorry.”

I’m not.
She almost clapped a hand to her mouth. What a terrible thought. She was an awful person. “Thanks.”

“Do you miss them?”

“My mother died in a car accident when I was an infant, so I never knew her. I’d have like to, though. And my father was—” She racked her brain for a nice way to describe her father. “—very controlling.
Very
. He cared. I’m sure he did. But he was a difficult man to live with.”

That was the nicest way she could possibly put it. He’d suffocated her with a million tiny little rules that dictated every aspect of her life, from her clothes to her friends to what she ate for dinner. The yelling and throwing things that resulted from not following his rules had made teenage rebellion not an option. The rules
would
be followed. But he had cared for her, in his way. She had to think so.

“He died of a heart attack right before I went to college.” And his death had allowed her to study whatever she’d wanted. The sudden freedom had been exhilarating, the adjustment difficult. Over time, she’d managed.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She could do nothing but nod, caught up in memories of the past.

***

They neared their destination for the night an hour later. It would take two days to reach his home on Mull. The ferry only ran occasionally at this time of year, on the edge of the wilderness of Glencoe. Because this part of Glencoe was closer to the coast, the mountains had become more rolling and less peaked. The valleys had supported flocks of sheep for hundreds of years, shepherds tending them as the sun rose and set countless times on the faces of mountains that never changed. Now, the sun shone through the low, wispy gray clouds, spreading dim beams of light across the valley.

He turned right off the main road. After about ten miles on one of the tiny lanes, he pulled up to the old inn he’d been staying at for centuries. Ownership hadn’t changed, nor had the interior, and he appreciated the familiarity. Watching the world change could be as wearying as it was exciting.

“Is this where we’re spending the night?” She scanned the stone front that had been carefully built so many years ago. Flowerboxes were fixed to the windowsills, but frost had killed the plants that awaited the first winter snow. What had originally been a four-room mountain inn had been expanded over the years until there were nearly a dozen rooms from various periods fitted together in a hodge-podge beneath the slate roof.

“Aye. There aren’t many visitors to this part of Scotland so close to winter. There shouldn’t be many other people here, which is good.”

“In case there’s another attack?”

“Aye. It’d be better to be away from people so there’s less to explain.”

“I see.” She adjusted her sweater nervously.

They checked into their room at the pub bar, which also acted as an informal reception desk, and with her overnight bag slung over his shoulder, they walked through the winding corridor to the back of the inn. He slipped the skeleton key into the lock, jiggled it, and the old door popped open. He ducked under the lintel as they walked inside and slung the bag onto the small double bed.

“Are you staying next door?” she asked.

“Nay.”

“Down the hall?”

“Nay again.”

“You can’t stay here.” She glanced pointedly at the bed, but as she did so, she wondered how much she meant it.

“Aye, lassie, I am. I’m no’ leaving your side ‘til I know that you’re safe.”

Diana frowned. “How long could that possibly be?”

“A while. Though when we’re at my home you’ll be more secure, so we won’t have to share a chamber. Doona worry. I’ll take the chair.” He nodded at the big chair near the window.

“Um, okay. Thanks.” Was she happy about that? Strangely, she didn’t feel the relief she’d expected. In fact, she didn’t know what else to say, and suddenly the room felt very tiny. “I guess I’m going to go shower.”

What the hell have I gotten into?
Diana’s mind tumbled over itself as she tried to relax beneath the gentle fall of water, the thin stream leaving a lot to be desired in the pressure department.

One day she had a nice stable life and the next she had a destiny that involved fleeing from demons while she tried to figure out the mystery of her past.

It sounded crazy. She shivered despite the heat of the shower. This mess felt like a carrot being dangled in front of her starving rabbit self. Finally, a chance to figure out the nightmares that had stalked her to this day. All she had to do was get past some demons. No big deal.

Just like the wildly attractive man now pacing in the room beyond the door. What was she supposed to do about him? She didn’t date much because of her workload, and she’d certainly never been around a man quite like him.

His past was tragic, though how he dealt with it was admirable. She felt strangely comfortable in his presence, despite their short acquaintance—as though he could actually protect her from this nightmare.

Diana sighed, shut off the water, and grabbed a towel from the rack. She swept the curtain back from the old clawfooted tub that had been converted into a shower. She shivered as she stepped out of the tub onto the tile floor, then immediately slipped in a puddle.

A curse broke free of her lips as she tried to catch the shower curtain and scrabbled for purchase. The curtain rod snapped, clanged like falling steel pipes, and her curse bounced off the walls of the small bathroom.

Damn. She’d probably alerted the cavalry.

She swore again as Cadan burst through the door and caught sight of her sprawled on the ground. She clutched the towel to her chest; it barely covered the essentials.

He strode toward her, concern in his dark eyes, and swept her up.

She gasped as he pressed her against the wall, his strong hands gripping her upper arms gently. The heat and roughness of his palms burned into her skin, and she thought inanely of the towel that threatened to slip off. Her sanity wavered under the intensity of his gaze. She barely knew him, but her body didn’t agree with that sentiment.

“Are you all right, lassie?” His voice was rough with worry, his dark brows drawn over eyes that burned with some intense, unrecognizable emotion. Anger, lust, something else? Whatever it was made it almost impossible to drag air into her failing lungs.

Kiss me
. Rational Diana slipped to the back of her brain. She raised her hand to his chest, biting her lip when the muscles tightened beneath her palm.

“Diana,” Cadan whispered roughly, emotion in his voice that she couldn’t recognize. Maybe he couldn’t either.

He cupped the back of her head with a callused palm, lifting her face to his. She pushed futilely against his chest.
No, I shouldn’t want this.

But she couldn’t make herself speak the words. Didn’t want to speak the words.

He drew her to him, her token resistance a fly that he swatted away. His eyes darkened, a storm within them, and he glared at her before crushing his mouth to hers.

A moan escaped her as she felt his mouth close warm and firm over hers. She struggled to resist, but when his tongue pressed against the seam of her lips, she parted them, eager for the heat of his invasion.

His tongue stroked hers, sending a lightning bolt of pleasure through her body straight to her pussy.

“Ah, lassie, you taste sweet,” he murmured against her lips.

She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking her hands into his hair. Her movement caused him to groan, a dark sound of delight that made her shiver. Encouraged, she bit his lower lip, laving it with her tongue as she held it fast.

He gripped her hair with his fist, tilting her head for better access, and wrapped one strong arm around her waist to yank her against him. The move pulled her up against his chest until she could feel the ridges of muscle in sharp definition. He took control again with his mouth and his hands. The things he could do with his tongue made her shiver and the strength left her legs.

Finally
. She was darkly thrilled to have her hands on such a magnificent male. She’d wanted this for so long, but had never found anyone who made her feel anything more than vague apathy. But he, stranger though he might be, felt like what she’d been waiting for.

Running her hands down his strong neck, she tentatively began to explore the muscular contours of his shoulders and chest. How could he possibly be built like this? It wasn’t natural. Normal humans didn’t have such a perfect combination of muscle and lean strength. Her hand inched toward the hem of his shirt, intent upon feeling the heat of his skin against her flesh.

Cadan shuddered. “That’s it, love.”

He trailed his lips lightly across her cheek to her throat. She gasped as she felt his warm mouth close over the sensitive spot at the curve between her shoulder and neck. Heat shot through her veins, and she felt a throbbing deep in her center.

She cried out softly as his teeth sank lightly into her flesh, careful not to break the skin. It felt like a lightning bolt joined the spot with her clitoris, and she arched into him.

“You like that, do you?” His voice rumbled in her ear, and she shuddered. How had he found that spot so quickly? She didn’t even know she had it. But now that she did, she didn’t want him to ever stop kissing and biting.

He didn’t seem to want to stop either. She could feel his strong arm supporting her back and the erection bulging against her stomach and wondered what it would be like to reach between them to cradle him in her palm. She licked her lips and ran her hands over the muscles beneath his shirt at his lower back instead, too shy to touch what she was really interested in.

The hand that fisted her hair shifted and moved south, squeezing her hip briefly before running down her thigh. He gripped her leg and hoisted it up next to his hip. The movement almost put her core level with his shaft and she wriggled, not caring that she was whimpering in his ear.

She felt aching and empty and she wanted to ride the bulge of his cock.

Please
, she almost whispered, but the words wouldn’t come. She was losing her mind, every second that she was trapped between him and the wall turning her into a mass of feelings and need with no coherent thought. She felt helpless, a bird trapped in a cage of pleasure.

Fight it
, something in her whispered,
you barely know him
.

“No,” she said, almost too softly to hear. Or was she telling herself no? Because part of her didn’t believe her own protests.

He began to slide his hand along her thigh toward the hem of the towel.
A little farther.
Grip my ass and sink your fingertips into me.
Touch me.
The thought was insane, she barely knew him, and he was breaking her resistance the way cannon fire destroyed a sail.