Leda started to shake her head, but Hunter scooped her against him, opening her for his kiss. He released her, and indicated she should lead the way. As he followed, he picked up his clothes, which he’d left on the sand, and tucked them under his arm. Leda walked ahead of him down the beach to the jetty and the sailboat that rocked there.
The boat’s tiny cabin was dark and close, but Hunter didn’t care. He tossed his clothes onto the cushioned bench next to the door and followed Leda into the forward cabin, which was nothing but wall-to-wall bed. He’d have to be careful not to hit his head on the low ceiling, was his last thought before he undressed her.
When she lay under him, her naked body damp, she whispered, “Do you want me to open to you again?”
She meant her chakras. Hunter remembered the intense pleasure of joining not only with her body but with her spirit, but he shook his head, too impatient. “I just want you.”
Leda was so eager for him that he slid right in. She pressed her fingers to his buttocks and pressed him deeper, sighing breathily.
“Goddess, Leda.” Hunter kissed her face. “You’re tight.”
Leda lifted her hips on the wide mattress. “I can take all of you. I want to.” She sounded desperate. Moonlight leaked through the tiny cabin windows and glittered on the tears in her eyes. “This might be the last chance I have.”
Hunter kissed her wet lashes. “No, no, love. When I get done figuring out what’s wrong I’ll come back here, we’ll take our time. All day long, we’ll lie together. I’ll love you for hours and hours. Days. Weeks. I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t want anyone but me.”
Leda smiled in the darkness. “Goddess, I thought you were arrogant before.”
Hunter grinned. “I won’t be arrogant, I’ll be your pleasure slave. Anything you want—chain me to your bed, whatever it takes.”
Leda’s eyes darkened. “Be careful, I might do it.”
“I wouldn’t mind.” He moved a little inside her, another inch. “I’ll taste you ’til you scream, then I’ll make love to you with my fingers and tongue.” He swiped his tongue across her lower lip. “Want me to bring back some handcuffs? Or maybe Samantha has some we can borrow. She’s a cop.” The sudden vision of Leda standing, beautiful and naked, on the beach, her hands bound behind her, made his erection give a hungry throb.
Leda blushed in the moonlight. “Actually when Douglas was frisking you I thought of you in them.”
Hunter growled. “I was wishing it was you frisking me.”
“Me too.”
“Really?” he purred. He rocked his hips, making her gasp in delight. “I think we should explore every facet of this fantasy.”
“Not now. Make love to me.”
For answer Hunter kissed her. No slow going this time—he braced his hands against the bed and rocked into her swiftly. Her hair flowed thick and long around her, tangles of it drifting over Hunter’s body as she held him close.
The boat swayed with their lovemaking, and sweat slicked their bodies. Moonlight shone on Leda’s beautiful face and broke Hunter’s heart. How anyone could have given up this woman he had no idea. Her husband had to be insane, and maybe he had been.
The first time loving Leda had been warm and sweet, riding on a wave of magic. This sex was raw and basic. Hunter bunched his fists on the bed, thrusting into her until he was grunting with it. Not exactly elegant, but Hunter never considered himself elegant. Decadence was Adrian’s forte; Hunter lived close to the bone.
His climax hit him with the force of a freight train. He groaned, closing his eyes and cracking his head on the low ceiling of the cabin. Ignoring the pain, he collapsed to Leda and held himself inside her while she cried her own release.
Hunter kissed her mouth, her throat, and her breasts. The last thing he saw before he sank beside her in oblivion was her smile, a sad smile coupled with renewed tears. He tried to tell her not to cry, but a sudden wave of sleep engulfed him, and he was gone.
When Hunter awoke, the sun was high, and he felt the vestiges of the sleep spell slide away from him. He was alone in the bed, and Mukasa roared somewhere on the beach, Taro growling a chorus.
Hunter jerked up, swearing when he banged his head again on the low ceiling. He scrambled down from the bed, pulled on his jeans and borrowed T-shirt and left the cabin, hurrying barefoot across the deck. He climbed onto the jetty then sprang from it and sprinted around the house and to the beach.
Mukasa stood facing the empty airstrip where the Samantha’s plane had been. The lion’s head was thrown back, mouth open as he bellowed his mournful call. The twin-engine plane was gone, Leda and Samantha with it.
Hunter strode through the house, his anger building with every step. Samantha’s things were gone, the couch pristine, blankets folded on one end. Leda had even made her own bed. In the bathroom, neat and clean, the bottles of Leda’s scented soap and shampoo had been taken away, along with her toothbrush. They’d had plenty of time.
Leda must have slid away soon after she’d touched Hunter with the sleep spell. He cursed himself for having missed it—she’d done it so subtly, and Hunter had been too far gone in the joy of the moment to notice.
Hunter’s shield around the island was meant to keep evil out, not people in. Besides, he’d wanted Samantha able to leave at any moment—had planned to encourage it this morning. Just not with Leda.
Hunter slammed out of the house and made for the boat. He knew how to sail—he’d sailed around the Mediterranean on Roman vessels then Turkish ones, had crossed oceans in tall-masted ships, had sailed pleasure craft in Greece, Brazil, and North American lakes. Leda’s boat was a thirty-eight footer with a simple rigging, sturdy enough to sail in deep waters. He rummaged through the charts and found those marked for passage to nearby California.
His problem was, he couldn’t leave Mukasa and Taro. Leda had known the animals would be in good hands with Hunter, that Hunter wouldn’t abandon them, damn her. Hunter had counted on Mukasa and Taro keeping Leda behind when he left the island. His beautiful siren had turned the tables on him.
He crossed back to the house, threw food into a cardboard box—chips, packaged cookies, pretzels, candy bars. One good thing about junk food—it took a long time to go bad. Hunter found Leda’s radio on the counter, snatched it up, and turned it on. He enhanced the electronics with his magic to find the frequency to reach Samantha’s plane.
“Leda!” he bellowed.
Quiet crackling answered him. Hunter called her name a few more times, but either she was out of range or simply refusing to answer. Or she was dead—the plane could have been followed by the intense evil that stalked the island.
Hunter pushed that horrible scenario firmly from his mind. He’d find them—he was an Immortal with incredible powers. He’d find Leda, grab on to her, and not let her run off again. The handcuffs might come in handy.
The animals came out of their enclosures to watch him. Mukasa did not look in the least distressed, and his body language asked, Where are we going? Taro, on the other hand, regarded the boat with grave suspicion.
“I can’t leave you, my friends,” Hunter told them. He clicked on the radio again. “Leda. You have to help me with the animals. I don’t know how to feed them.”
A lie, but as he’d hoped, an appeal to the animals’ welfare worked. He heard Leda’s voice among the crackle. “Hunter?”
Relief flooded him, along with more anger. “Where the hell are you?”
“Heading to Los Angeles. I’m sorry, Hunter.” She paused, as though wanting to say more, but she couldn’t decide what. “The animals have one big feeding at three in the afternoon. One packet of supplements to every five pounds of food. You have to weigh it.” Again, a pause. “I had to leave. I’m sorry.”
“You stay put when you get to L.A. I’m coming out there.”
More crackling. “You can’t!”
“You watch me, darling.”
Hunter clicked off the radio and went on with his pre
parations. He’d search for the humor at her audacity if the situation weren’t so dangerous. His conversation with Kali worried him more than he liked. Hunter needed to find his brothers, figure this thing out, then drag Leda back here and chain her to the bed.
Mukasa strolled out to the boat as Hunter carried on the last load of food and supplements—one packet for every five pounds. Got it. The big cat stepped onto the boat’s deck and peered curiously down into the cabin. Taro, on the other hand, lumbered up and down the beach, watching them in distress.
“It won’t be so bad,” Hunter promised.
Taro didn’t believe him. He sat on his haunches and sent up a wail of protest.
“I will care for the bear.”
The voice came out of the shadows behind the house, from under a stand of palm trees backed by thick undergrowth. The Undine stood upright, shafts of sunlight shooting iridescent green, gold, and blue through her skin and silver hair.
“You are needed in the world, Immortal,” she continued. She glanced at Mukasa, who was standing happily on the deck of the boat then to Taro who was growling to himself. “The lion wishes to accompany you, but I will look after the other. The bear is a wild creature, and welcome here.”
“Thank you,” Hunter answered. They shared a look across the space between them, one purely magical creature to another.
If life magic continued to drain, Dyanne and her kind would be the first to go—the Undines, Sidhe, Selkies, leprechauns, and other magical beings of legend. Life-magic creatures who could live as humans would feel it next—the shapeshifters and the Weres. And then humans, the witches first. After that, non-magical people who made up the rest of the population. The death magic creatures would feed on the last category, who would have no defenses against them. Vampires, demons, and other nasties would have a field day.
And after that? Life and death magic had to remain in balance or the world would unmake itself. The death magic creatures would die as well, in the end.
Hunter stopped in the act of untying lines. Was that this demon’s plan? Hunter and his brothers had been brought into the world to stop death magic creatures from tipping the balance in their favor. Not because the death magic might win, but because the world could crumble and die if the balance shifted too far.
If an evil creature with intelligence drained the world of life magic, it would know it would only destroy itself in the long run. What kind of being was that suicidal? And how could Tain be behind this, Tain of all people?
When Hunter had lost his family, Tain had been the most sympathetic to him. The others had more or less implied Hunter shouldn’t have lost his heart to a human woman in the first place. They felt bad for him, but Adrian especially had warned him of the folly of falling in love. Love was not for Immortals.
Hunter had decided he’d learned his lesson. From then on, he’d pursued women only for fun—to give them pleasure and to enjoy himself doing it. He fought battles, he made love, he lived with intensity, and he never again engaged his emotions.
Hunter didn’t ask himself why he cast off the sailboat and made for Los Angeles in pursuit of the beautiful Leda, who might be in danger, instead of letting her go and figuring out how he could find his brothers and stop the death magic. That would have raised too many questions he didn’t want to answer.
“We lived here for twenty years,” Samantha said as she and Leda looked around the living room of her mother’s house.
“I can feel the wards.” Leda closed her eyes and touched a window frame, sensing the runes etched in magic, glowing like shining silver in her mind. “Some have broken, others are still here. I can repair them, at least.”
“She didn’t go willingly.” Samantha put her hands on her hips and surveyed the damage as Leda restored the broken lines of magic. “Look at this place.”
It was a mess. Furniture lay scattered haphazardly, a glass had been smashed on the floor, the smell of alcohol faint. The kitchen likewise was trashed, and bore a smear of dried blood on the tile floor.
Worry pinched Samantha’s eyes. “They tested the blood. It matched the DNA in a strand of hair from my mother’s hairbrush. It was hers.”
Leda felt a pang of sympathy. When Leda had heard that her husband was swiftly dying, she’d wanted to fight and scream, anything not to lose him. How much harder must it be for Samantha, not knowing whether her mother was alive or dead?
“Wards can stop magical entries such as portals,” Leda said. “Or, at the very least give a warning, like an alarm system, when a magical breach happens. If your mother worried about your father coming for her, she’d have strong shields against portals, and these wards were super strength. It’s unlikely he got in that way.”
“Can’t you tell what happened at all?” Samantha asked, frustration in her voice.
“I’m afraid not, but she certainly did fight.”
Catching Samantha’s surprised look, Leda explained her speculation. “Leftover violence will show in shadows throughout the house. A frightening act leaves a certain vibration that I magically see. Bad energy can also be highlighted through spells. Kind of like taking an aura photograph. Events imprint on a setting. That’s why people believe houses are haunted when they’re not—it’s the residue of a terrible act, not necessarily a ghost.”
Samantha gave her a conceding nod, and let out a resigned breath. “All right. What do you need to do the spell?”
“Incense and wind chimes. My magic is aligned with the element of air, so I do best when using air accoutrements. I brought plenty of supplies with me, so I can start right now if you want.”
Samantha plopped onto the sofa, which had been dragged sideways across the room. “I’m sorry, Leda, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s me being worried. If you need a good night’s sleep first, you should take it. I remember my mother warning that a witch shouldn’t perform strong magic when she wasn’t completely rested. She was always careful.”
Leda retrieved her shoulder-bag, which she’d dropped beside the door. “It’s true, I wouldn’t mind a nap. We should stay here, if you can stand to. Even breathing the air of the house will help me reconstruct a picture.”
“That’s not a problem.” Samantha looked around, worry and fondness warring in her eyes. “My mother loved this house. I spent most of my childhood here. I still consider it my home, where I was happy.”
The house was typical of old Pasadena, stucco with a Spanish-style tiled courtyard holding a fountain, and arched doorways inside. It had an airy living room that led into a kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom downstairs, and a tiled staircase curving between smoothly plastered walls to two large bedrooms on the second floor. A carved, Mexican-style armoire stood on the landing between the two bedroom doors.
There was no sign of violence upstairs, Leda noticed as she and Samantha went up there. Whoever had broken in, whatever had happened downstairs, this area was unmarked.
“My mom’s room is there,” Samantha said, pointing to a closed door. “I had the other room, which she now uses for guests. You can take it.”
“I’d rather stay in your mother’s room, if you don’t mind,” Leda said. “Every little bit will help me to get a clear picture of her.”
Samantha nodded. She led Leda into her mother’s bedroom and sat down on the bed. “Thank you for doing this, Leda. I know it was hard for you to decide to come with me.”
Leda shook her head. “I know Hunter will never leave Mukasa and Taro alone,” she said, believing she was right “He cares about animals more than he does people.”
Leda felt slightly guilty about tricking him, but being trapped on the island was not what she wanted. She had no doubt Hunter’s shield would keep her there until he was good and ready. She’d taken a chance, catching air in her fingers to slither a sleep spell into his mind. Granted, he’d been very distracted by the intensity of their sex, or she doubted it would have worked. Leda had never felt so vulnerable, so open to another person. Yet she remained aware of how much gre
ater his powers were compared to hers. He was Immortal, she a human witch who didn’t want to be left behind to watch her world destroyed.
Samantha gave her a look. “Be careful of him, Leda. Don’t think that because you’re sleeping with him you can trust him, that he won’t hurt you. He’s a killer—I saw it in his eyes. I’ve been a cop long enough to recognize that kind of ruthless determination. It’s as if he has nothing to lose.”
Leda opened her bag and started sorting out her implements—spices for making incense, a mortar and pestle, and an incense bowl. “That might be true. But he also has an incredible gentleness in him.”
Samantha raised her brows, a smile beginning. “And how long have you known him?”
“I met him yesterday.” When he barreled into my life and took over.
Her smile widened, making Samantha’s demon good looks even more lovely. “I can see by the way you looked at him that you’ll probably ignore my warnings. But he is dangerous, Leda. I’m not wrong about that. Slow down and think about it, all right?”
Leda’s answer was interrupted by someone thumping on the door downstairs. Samantha looked worried again and hurried from the bedroom.
Leda went to the window, but the slope of the porch roof blocked her view. No car was parked in the street outside the house other than Samantha’s. A concerned neighbor? An angry Hunter come to fetch Leda back to the island?
The warning magic of the renewed wards suddenly went off, tingling Leda’s skin and searing into her brain. She raced out of the room and down the stairs. “Samantha, don’t—”
Samantha had stepped back from the door without touching it, but it burst open on its own. The overcast May evening had darkened, and the porch light threw a glare over two men on the doorstep. They had dark hair, arrogant smiles, and black eyes that tried to suck Leda in as soon as she looked at them. Crap.
“Who the hell are you?” Samantha demanded. “And what are you doing?” She reached behind her, as though going for handcuffs or a weapon, then realized she had nothing.
The Gathering Page 9