She knelt at the edge and peered into the pit. Wisps of sulfur-scented smoke seeped from cracks in the rock walls, and heaved earth pinpointed where shifts in the ground had altered the hole, changing it from a smooth drop to a staggered decline. She studied the niches, then chuckled. The ledges formed a crude staircase. Jutting roots along the path offered something to grip too.
“I guess I found my entrance.” Would it lead her to salvation or damnation, though?
She didn’t have an answer, but nothing was going to stop her, not even the fear of being below ground. A flash of the basement in her family home filled her vision. Sheets of iron lined the walls, ceilings and floors. A shiver raced down her spine. It had been her solitary cell, but only when Ian hadn’t been home. Otherwise, he’d stayed with her, playing games and watching movies.
Experience had taught her that she been sent there for protection, not punishment. Her childhood self hadn’t known that, though. And I hated it. I’ll never allow anyone to lock me up or control me ever again.
To a point, she could understand why her mom had kept the secret of Harley’s tainted heritage from her. As a child, she wouldn’t have been able to comprehend the danger. As a teenager, though? She never would’ve violated the rules had she known the reason behind them, and her family would still be alive.
She clenched her hands and fought the anger threatening to take hold. The past couldn’t be changed. Her mom had treated her like a puppet, an object to be led, not as a person who deserved the truth.
And a ghost man saved me, finally giving me the knowledge I should’ve had all along.
Maybe he’d only given her the information so she’d live long enough to release him, but no matter why, he’d left a lasting impression on her. She hadn’t been able to let him go. He starred in her sexual fantasies, and his eyes were the first thing she pictured whenever she was afraid or angry. In a twisted way, he’d become the center of her life.
One way or another, it needed to stop. Either he’d be the answer to her problems or the one who’d finally succeed where the fairies’ creatures had failed. She’d reached the end of her rope. Living sucked when death followed her everywhere.
She swung her legs over the side of the pit. The veil vanished, giving her an unobstructed view of the sinkhole and its seemingly endless bottom. She scanned the space, looking for an entrance to where Calan was held. A flicker of light flashed deep in the depths of the pit as if someone had lit a candle for her, welcoming her. She stared at the dancing flames, and her fears rushed up. She swallowed around the lump in her throat and let go, dropping to the first ledge. Her future was waiting for her.
He was waiting for her.
My ghost man.
Chapter Four
Calan straightened his right arm, then flexed his hand, loosening his tight muscles. His other remained stretched above his head while his feet were shackled to hooks on the floor. For a thousand years, he had remained in the same position. To a human, the idea would sound inconceivable. Some days it boggled his mind also. The truth remained one he couldn’t deny, though. A millennium ago, he’d been tricked into a battle that had damned the riders of the Wild Hunt.
He closed his eyes against the memory, not wanting to relive the event that had left him chained in a cell alone while his beloved brothers and sisters suffered horrendous agony. They were the ones who paid the price of his mistake. Compared to the living hell they endured, standing in one spot was nothing. He wished he could take their pain away or bear it all, but he was left here, stuck between the mortal realm and the Underworld in a prison no mere human could see or enter.
The only comfort he could offer his siblings was his company. As the leader of the Hunt, he had the ability to touch their minds. It wasn’t much, but their conversations helped them endure. Well, it helped those who chose to talk to him, anyway. Many had given up and welcomed insanity. Honestly, Calan couldn’t blame them. A mindless existence beat dying over and over to appease a curse meant for the members of the Unseelie Court.
Soon the Huntsmen’s torment would end, though. All he had to do was convince Harley to release him. Then he’d hunt down Dar, the leader of the fairies, and take him out, once and for all.
Victory was so close, Calan could almost taste it.
His gaze drifted to the shelf next to the open doorway. The dagger displayed there looked innocuous enough. No power emanated from it, but the etchings lining the obsidian blade detailed the curse lying dormant within it. The curse he had to transfer to Dar.
Calan would. He had to. The alternative promised the humans endless suffering and oppression under the rule of the Unseelie Court. Dar’s goals were to release his brethren from Hell and flood the mortal realm with the destructive powers contained within the Underworld.
A wave of rage pulsed through Calan at the thought, and a growl rumbled in his chest. He’d seen the atrocities the Unseelie Court were capable of inflicting upon the mortals. Calan’s very being demanded he protect them from the fairies. A millennium ago, he’d failed. He breathed through the anger the memory brought. It wouldn’t help him. The deed was done.
I’ll right my wrong, and it’ll be Dar’s own child who helps me bring him to justice.
The words he held close calmed the last of his resentment. He rested his head against the smooth stone wall at his back and listened to the torch’s crackle. It was one of the few ways he spent his endless days. Since connecting with Harley, though, he had another.
He dragged up the image of her eyes and let the spell she wove over him grip him. He yearned to see the rest of her, touch her, explore the connection he’d initiated with her and decide if he wanted to complete the union he’d started by mating her. Nine years ago, he would’ve done so in a heartbeat. She’d never returned, though. A good thing, maybe, despite the delay in his revenge against Dar. For a god, even a demigod such as he was, taking a mate was an eternal commitment.
One look into Harley’s eyes, and he’d decided she would be his. Not the wisest way to choose a mate, but the rightness of his decision had burned strong within him then.
Now? What do I want now? To use her? Or save her.
He didn’t have an answer. Over the time they’d been separated, he’d experienced a range of emotions from disappointment to hatred, but he’d never let go of the longing or the need to look into her eyes again. They comforted him as much as they tormented him. Every day, he’d reached for her through the precarious link he’d established. Not once had he found her.
Until today.
And when she did come to him? Then what? Would he finish bonding to her as he’d hastily promised? He shook his head. Part of him wondered why he still considered mating her. He was meant to hunt the members of the Unseelie Court, not long for one of them. But he did. He feared he always would.
One issue at a time. I need to convince her to free me first. Then I will figure out why she affects me so.
Minutes ticked by in silence before the sinful fragrance of oranges and spice reached him.
Harley.
He closed his eyes and sighed in relief. She came.
The clunk of her approaching steps resounded in the hallway. He focused on the stairs leading into his cell. Anticipation held him taut.
Dirty white boots appeared on the first step. Shapely legs covered in a clingy black material came next. Another step revealed flaring hips that gave way to a small waist he could probably span with one hand. The longing he’d always carried for her turned into lust, a burning desire he couldn’t deny.
His pent-up breath escaped in a shudder. A tremor shook the dainty hand curled at her hip, and the full breasts that strained the confines of her shirt rose and fell with her rapid breaths. He should’ve coaxed her the remaining distance, but he couldn’t form words. The sight of her pebbled nipples pushing against her thin top shut his mind down. Getting her naked and fill
ing her became his only thought. Hunter or not, he was still male, and Harley stirred urges he hadn’t embraced in over a millennium.
She reached out, braced a hand against the wall and took the last step.
Her gaze latched on to his.
His heart stopped.
The fuzzy image he’d held of her didn’t do her justice. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. A thick knit hat covered her blonde hair, but the wayward strands escaping its confines were nearly white and shone in the flickering light of the torch she carried. It cast a glow over her and enhanced the angelic image she embodied. Dainty cheekbones, a small nose, plump lips and a chin with a tiny cleft enhanced her face.
She had the body of a goddess, but it was her eyes that stripped him raw. Seeing the dark, sensuous and turbulent blue orbs against her pale skin tore a groan from his throat. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She licked her lips.
The fairies were known as the fair race because they were the most beautiful of all the nonhuman species. In the stories Calan had heard, Dar was described of the fairest of the males when he belonged to the Seelie Court. His transformation into Unseelie had changed him physically and mentally until his soul and body had reflected the monster he’d become.
Calan hated the male, but couldn’t stop the wave of awe he felt in the presence of his nemesis’s offspring. Yet, as much as her physical presence affected him, the pureness that emanated from her attracted him more.
She’d remained pure…for the most part, at least.
“My God.” She let out a nervous laugh. “You’re gorgeous.”
“No, not gorgeous. I was bred for war.” He swept his hand down his chest. “This body is merely a reflection of what was required to fulfill my purpose.”
She tilted her head and studied him with narrowed eyes. Her gaze caressed his skin and left a trail of heat in the wake of her perusal. Her blue eyes widened as her attention focused on his groin and the straining length there. She swallowed hard.
He wished she’d move closer so he could wrap his hand around the tender column of her throat. He wanted to feel the wild beating of her pulse against his palm. As if she’d heard him, she took several steps into the room, but stopped too far away for him to touch her. He curled his fingers.
Patience. He refused to send her running. He’d waited too long for her and freedom.
“And your purpose is to stop the fairies?”
It was voiced as a question, but he heard the acceptance of the truth in her tone. Had she realized what it meant for her? He pushed away the thought. She came to him despite it, and if he mated her, it wouldn’t matter. She would be invisible to the Hunt and would escape its wrath. If he didn’t? Life would take its natural course. He couldn’t save everyone. Harsh but true.
“Yes. The riders of the Hunt were created to seek out the members of the Unseelie Court and return them to the Underworld.”
“I thought they lived in the fairy realm? Some magical place of castles and whimsical creatures?” A small smile played on her lips. “Maybe with unicorns and dragons? I’ve always wanted to soar through the sky on the back of one and feel the wind blowing my hair around me.” Her grin widened, and her eyes twinkled. “I’d feel free.”
“When the fairies were beloved among the nonhumans, they lived in the fairy realm.”
“When they were good, you mean?”
“Yes, when they were Seelie.” He nodded. “But then their king became corrupted, and his Court followed him into damnation. They were condemned to suffer eternally for their crimes.”
“And you were created to retrieve them.” She cocked a brow. “You weren’t born?”
“My sire walked among the humans for one year and one day so he could create his Teulu.” At her pinched brow, he added, “His family of Hunters. We are his children, born of different human mothers.”
“Your mother willingly conceived you?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes on a long, slow exhale.
He waited for her to ask the question he dreaded answering. From his time in the mortal world, he knew firsthand what humans thought of his father, Arawn. They called him the devil. Sick. Corrupted.
Evil.
He wasn’t. Arawn was simply the god chosen to rule over the Underworld, but Calan didn’t want to get into a discussion about his heritage. He wanted Harley to unlock him.
She didn’t ask about his lineage, though. She took a single step closer. Her intelligent eyes scanned the space, a replica of his bedroom in the fortress he’d once called home. All the furnishings fit the position he’d held, and none reflected the era in which he’d lived. They were magically fashioned to meet his needs.
The large, high bed was as soft as the finest down, and the wardrobes contained an endless supply of garments to match the current period. On the table next to the deep, cushioned chair, a pitcher of wine and bowl of decadent food offerings never emptied. Everything he’d coveted stood just out of reach, another torment. The same could also be said of the woman before him.
“You are lucky, then.” She ran her finger over the rim of a wineglass. “At least your mother wanted you.”
Pain laced her statement, but her expression remained the same. He studied her a moment, looking for some clue as to whether hate festered in her heart. None showed. Only a soul-deep weariness emanated from her. “Yours didn’t?”
She shrugged. “She was raped by a member of the Unseelie Court. Seeing me every day no doubt brought back memories she wished she could’ve forgotten. She cared for me, though.” She glanced at him. “Did her best to protect me. I was lucky.”
No lesser member created her. Dar had. He was the only pure fairy left. The Huntsmen had captured all the other Unseelies, and the chances any of Dar’s other half-breed children having lived to maturity were slim. The taint Dar had infected them with would have turned them into beacons in the night, drawing redcaps and sluaghs to them. Without a way to defend themselves, the immature half-breeds would’ve become no more than food sources. Besides, the strength resonating from Harley hinted at how very powerful she’d be if she embraced her heritage. She’d rival her father.
“Dar, their leader, sired you.” He’d bet his life on it.
“Condemned me, you mean.”
He shrugged, the only response he could manage. He didn’t want to speak of what her future would entail if he didn’t bind himself to her.
She glided to the wall, the sway of her hips a wonderful sight, and slipped the torch she carried into the empty holder. “Why?”
The question could’ve meant a number of things. His fate rested on his ability to convince her to willingly pick up the key from the pillow on his bed and unlock him. He couldn’t risk alienating her by answering incorrectly. Many of his responses wouldn’t please her.
“What do you mean?”
“If you were created to hunt the fairies”—she peered over her shoulder—“why are you here? In chains?”
“Because during the fight that should’ve wiped the last fairy from the earth, I was led into a trap. Dar imprisoned all the Huntsmen that night.”
“There are more Hunters like you?”
“Yes, my flower, and once I capture Dar, he will join his brethren in Hell and my siblings can be released.”
She wrapped her arms around her chest. “Don’t call me that.”
The change in subject didn’t surprise him. The topic she’d latched on to did, however. “Why? It’s a pleasant nickname.”
“It makes me feel beautiful.” She dropped her hands, balling her fists at her sides. “I feel the taint festering in my body. Every day it grows. Soon I’ll be as monstrous as Dar.” She advanced on him. A few feet away, she stopped and scrunched her nose. “Am I right?”
He reached for her. His fingers fell short of her chest, and she didn’t close the
scant distance. He let his hand drop. “You’re still pure.” Mostly.
She groaned. The agonized sound cut at his heart.
“But not for long.” She took one more step closer. “Am. I. Right?”
He grasped her arm and tugged her struggling body against his. She shoved at his chest, but he wouldn’t allow her to slip free. He slid his hand down the length of her spine to her rounded bottom and pressed her against his straining cock. She stilled.
“Keep embracing that rage, and you’ll spiral into the darkness you’re fighting.”
Her chest heaved. Each exhale pressed her breasts into his hardened muscles. After a moment, she fisted his shirt and clung to him. “I don’t want to be like them.”
He lifted her with a hand on her bottom. She gasped but grabbed his shoulders to steady herself. He held her gaze and asked the one question that had bothered him for years. “Then why didn’t you return to me? I promised to save you.”
She turned her head. He nudged her with his chin until she focused on him. She sighed. “I was afraid.”
“Of me.”
“Of everything, Calan. My family had just been attacked by monsters, and you show up as a disembodied pair of eyes. Then…” She shook her head. “I wasn’t about to believe a ghost.”
“Do you still think I’m a ghost?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
Yes, but the lust darkening her eyes suggested it wasn’t an unwanted diversion. With the conversation steered in a different direction, he wanted to explore it.
“And you’re avoiding my question.”
She skimmed her hands over the rough material of his shirt to the leather twining at his neck. With trembling fingers, she undid the binding. The fabric parted, revealing his upper chest. She traced the contours of his exposed muscles and settled her palm over his heart. Warmth spread from where she touched him and made him very aware of the female he held, a woman he’d wanted from the first moment he’d looked into her eyes.
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