“You have a mole in your household,” Soren said.
Gustaf frowned. “So you said.”
“It’s a fact! Hagen took off without telling anyone here. He called you, though. And he was ambushed on landing. There’s no better proof.” Soren rolled his chair forward. “And until you find the mole and any accomplices, we can’t divulge new intel. I won’t tolerate another betrayal.”
Gustaf scowled. “I hope you’re not insinuating that I…”
“Never,” Soren said. “You’ve been infiltrated, Uncle. That’s my meaning. You have a traitor, maybe traitors, in your midst. They must be found. The existence of creatures and humans alike is at stake.”
“The blunder was mine,” Hagen said. “I’m accustomed to working alone. I didn’t appreciate or understand Soren’s need for caution. I believed it was exaggerated, so I jumped the gun. I wanted to show off to Father that I could be as great as my older brother.” He stared at the ground.
“Brother…” Soren started to speak.
Hagen gestured for silence. “No, I don’t get a pass. My actions endangered everyone, even Mother, and Father by default.”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” Soren murmured.
“Uncle, I agree with Soren. You have a traitor,” Hagen continued. “Your communications system is state-of-the-art. The moment I called, the listener plotted a trajectory and landing point. I jumped when the jet’s missile approach sounded the alarm. Lieutenants were waiting to grab me. They were quite methodical too. I watched them blast the jet’s tail and a hangar and kill two humans, then set the field on fire and manufacture a crash landing.”
“Is there anyone back in Alsvåg you trust implicitly?” Soren asked. “Tell them to check every household phone and system’s usage and get prints too. Do it right now, before the mole wipes the trail.”
Gustaf had paled listening to Hagen. To his credit, he stopped arguing and reached for his phone. “Beatrix, listen to me. Go through the houses. Search as I give you instructions.” A series of hurried spoken commands followed.
Talaith was about to explain that she could attempt a memory trace of Gustaf’s phone, when Woody and Zola, panting for breath, barged into the room.
“Help!” Woody exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Soren. James has been stabbed.”
“We have this.” Kailen stepped forward, pointing at Soren. “Stay here. We need you healthy. Brant, with me.”
A sharp pang hit Talaith’s chest. At this critical moment, when her magic was needed the most, Kailen had gone past her and had asked Brant, of all people, to help. The Titanian was strong and brave, but his magic was a personal power. He wasn’t a healer.
The room emptied in a flash. Not a single debriefing participant remained. She was left alone, regretting her decision to stay when Khnurn had offered to take her. A little wobbly on her feet, she grasped the backrest of a club chair, steadying her balance.
Swallowing her disappointment, she stared at El Greco’s “View of Toledo” hanging on the opposite wall. Somehow, she knew the stunning piece came directly from the master’s hand.
A warm hand touched her. “Talaith?”
She turned. Zola’s face was as pale as when she ran in pleading for help.
“What can I do, Zola?”
“Kailen is asking for you. Will you help him?”
“I’ll do my best.”
Zola pivoted. Talaith followed her, even though she could find the emergency room within the mansion with her eyes closed. She’d been instrumental in putting together equipment and supplies before the mission to Alaska.
For her sanity’s sake, she’d already entered the good-bye phase, in which sweet memories and warm thoughts must be discarded. She refused to take anything that would delay or impede her progress under Khnurn’s teachings. That included everything she’d helped create and fix while in New York, and the one her heart had fallen for.
They reached the entrance to the emergency room at the same time an exhausted Soren rolled out. Pale and haggard, he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He gave her a polite nod and moved on.
Talaith stepped in, giving the situation a quick scan. James was on a stretcher. Using a clean cloth, his brother, Woody, wiped his smudged face. She changed direction, and her stomach roiled in disgust. A handsome male of indeterminate age lay on the floor. Brant knelt at his side, examining the pockets of his rumpled shirt and pants. Death hadn’t been kind. An ugly grimace twisted features devoid of color. White foam had bubbled out the corner of his mouth, and a thin trickle ran down his cheek.
Brant glanced up. “Suicide pill.”
The explanation was unnecessary. She shrugged with fake dispassion and moved away from the body. Gustaf had walked around to lift the shifter’s legs while Brant grasped the shoulders.
“I don’t understand,” Gustaf murmured. “I cared for Max, opened my home, trusted him. Gave him every opportunity.”
Arms folded, Kailen scowled as Gustaf and Brant carried the dead werefox to the door. “One spy is out of the way, Lord. Finding his collaborators is imperative.” He shifted his attention to Talaith. “Why didn’t you come sooner? Would you check James?”
Sooner? Holding her angry retort in check, Talaith changed her focus to Woody. She clasped his shoulder. “May I take a look?”
Woody nodded and slipped aside. His stricken expression broke her heart.
Holding James’s wrist, she counted heartbeats. His pulse was slowing, but it was still too fast. A trace amount of poison remained, and his system was struggling against its harmful effects. A light touch of magic would do the trick. She gave Woody an encouraging smile. “Atropine slowed the poison, and Kailen’s healing powers worked. He’s going to be fine. I’ll use one of my enchantments, and by tomorrow, he’ll be as good as new.” She patted Woody’s hand, then tossed her cloak on a table nearby.
“I need the room.” She rolled up her sleeves.
“You want us out?” Kailen asked.
Woody’s ruddy eyebrows shot up.
“Yes. This is between James and me. Close the door when you leave, please. You can’t interrupt or come in until I call you in.”
A doubtful Kailen gestured at Woody. As soon as the males left, she turned to James.
“It’s a good thing for you they trust me,” she murmured more for herself than for the unconscious shifter.
Whispering the ancient words, she unbuttoned James’s shirt and moved it out of her way. Palming his chest, she spread her fingers wide, waiting for the poison to rise and seep through her skin.
The burning tingling began, and she closed her eyes, commanding her immune system to stand down and accept the killing substance until the proper time.
This was a dangerous transfer in many ways. In addition to absorbing the poison, the ritual placed the sorcerer in a vulnerable position. Ages ago, when word of the spell spread from one realm to the next, enemies of the victims attacked the magic wielders during the healing act. From then on, the enchantment was performed in strict privacy, whispered from generation to generation, and everyone in the craft guarded its secrets. Only a select few in magic circles could perform the life-saving spell and tolerate the ensuing pain the healing sacrifice produced. The process—in which the magician took the blackness of death deep within and morphed it to light and life—was an unsung act of ultimate kindness.
She spoke the words louder, faster. Her hands glimmered, showing the toxic substance the path out. Mouth agape, James panted as her illumination and healing permeated him. In turn, her veins darkened, conveying the poisoned essence to her core, to the miraculous furnace within her, where heat cleansed and purified the deadly substance.
When James at last stretched out in peace, she pressed her fists to her heart, holding back the rush of acute conversion pain. The final step would end soon.
Moments later, it was all over. The cleansing and exchange had been less excruciating than usual thanks to Kailen’s quick actions.
&nbs
p; Talaith opened the door. Kailen waited, but Woody had gone. She moved out of his way when he rushed in.
“Where’s Woody?”
“He went to get Zola. She should be here when James wakes up. How are you?” Kailen’s direct look unnerved her.
She held her ground. “I’m well, and so is James. The treatment wasn’t bad. A little coaxing and the poison dissipated.” She donned her cloak and buttoned it closed at the neck. “See his color?”
“Much improved,” he said. “Where are you going?”
“Nowhere yet.”
“Why the cloak? It’s warm in here?” He grasped her wrist, determined eyes boring into hers.
“This kind of enchantment makes me very cold.”
“You’re not telling me everything.”
“I am… Well, as much as I’m allowed to divulge to an outsider.”
“Outsider? Explain.” He didn’t ask, he demanded.
Kailen slipped his hand up to her elbow. Gazing at her with his bottomless clear gaze, he tightened the hold, preventing her from escaping as he moved closer.
Dazed with his nearness, her head swam. Flames reignited within her, and while some of the ritual’s cold aftereffects diminished, a slow simmer remained. It only took his slightest touch, and she’d rise to the boiling point. Sighing, she almost let go and allowed herself to lean her needy, aroused body against his. Begged him to touch her. Explore her with his warm, caressing hands, make her feel alive…
What would he do…accept or reject her? Insidious doubt closed her throat. Even though her soul screamed for action, she couldn’t utter a sound.
She fought for words. “Your… Your healing magic is Tuath Dé, a gift from Dian Cécht. You’re not part of the druid line. That’s all…I meant.”
“Hmmm… Whatever you say.”
Kailen released her. Her skin chilled without his touch. What if she bantered or said something witty? Would he hold her again?
Too late. He’d already moved on. He was feeling James’s forehead.
“He’s cooled. Fever broke.” He studied the sleeping werefox.
“Yes. As I told you, he’ll be up and about tomorrow.”
Her intuition had been correct. She’d been needed and had accomplished one last job. Now she’d run out of excuses to stay. Kailen didn’t need her anymore. She made a move for the door, preparing for a quick, no-long-farewells exit.
But he stood, effectively stopping her getaway. “I had to send Zola to find you. Why?” His probing gaze burned.
Evasion offered escape. A shameless coward, she took it.
“I’m not sure what you mean?”
In two strides, he stood before her. His devouring eyes sent a maelstrom of messages she didn’t have the guts to accept or, conversely, dare reject. He loosened the top button of her cloak. The collar opened, exposing her skin.
“Ah…but you do.”
His fingertip brushed the hollow of her neck. She trembled. Heady desire swelled through her, demolishing all hesitation and pretense. She dropped her head back in full offering…
“Answer me.” He leaned forward. His scent crashed into her senses. Resistance evaporated when his lips hovered above hers.
“I… I thought…y-you didn’t—”
“Want you. Is that right?” His lips caressed hers.
Excitement sparked. She was a live wire as an electric current surged through her mouth, connecting every part of her and ending in that delicious, intimate spot between her legs.
“You asked Brant, not me.”
“Ah, a reproach.” He smiled. “I thought we were a team. Together in peril and need, that sort of thing.”
“Yes.”
Kailen stroked her temple with his jaw. An eternal up-and-down caress that took her ability to breathe and melted her soul. The feel of his whiskered skin delivered potent sensations she’d never felt before. She gasped. Desperate to bring him near, she reached to hold his neck…
“Hey. Oops!” Brant walked in the room. Woody and Zola followed.
She froze halfway. Kailen didn’t react.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Brant whispered.
Heat ravaged her face. “You didn’t.” Lowering her gaze, she stepped away from Kailen while buttoning her cloak with shaking hands.
“Talaith, stop,” Kailen commanded, then looked to Brant. “What do you want?”
“Uh, I may have dropped my phone when we took Max out. Can’t find it.” Brant searched the floor area, under and around the legs of James’s stretcher. He checked a desk and the tabletops, rummaged through shelves.
He shrugged with a blank look. “Nothing.”
“Maybe it’s in the dining room,” Kailen said. “Did you check your chair?”
“I didn’t. Good idea.” Brant bolted out of the room.
Kailen turned his attention back to her. If he extended a hand, she’d jump into his arms, offering her passion, want, and that other emotion she refused to name.
A last-minute flash of reason cooled her ardor. Kailen was out of her reach, his station in the natural order was way above hers. A more deserving female, someone worthy, perfect, and untainted, awaited his arrival to make him happy. Talaith’s heart pumped hard against her chest. She had to do it now, before he spoke and she lost the restraint she’d worked so hard to keep.
“Khnurn is coming for me.” She braced for his reaction.
Kailen cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”
Her eyes widened. She hadn’t expected this calm response. “He needs to further my training.”
“Because?”
“An old signature has appeared on his radar. Someone with extreme powers, a creature he believed was dead.”
“Really? Why would that involve you?”
“I don’t know his reasons or have all the details. He assured me a major conflict is coming, and I must be ready.”
“Is that right, another battle?” He studied her. “With daemons, I’m sure. What did he say, exactly?”
“Well… Astarot’s high mage is on the run. He’s hiding from his lord on the earthly plane.”
“Did he mention a name?”
“One. Dubtach.”
Kailen’s right eye twitched. The gesture would be imperceptible to anyone else. Not to her. She registered and held on to all things Kailen. The question flew out of her lips. “Do you know him?”
He smiled, the epitome of cordiality and nonchalance. “Not quite sure. Rings a distant bell. When’s Khnurn coming for you?” He walked to the doorway. “Let’s have tea in the sitting room while we wait. Shall we?”
During her time with Kailen, Talaith had learned two important details about the Danann. A small gesture equaled a huge reaction, and a switch in topic meant dangerous territory loomed ahead. A significant event, and not a good one, had transpired between Kailen and Dubtach. He’d never tell her. But if she did her best to convince him, maybe Khnurn would.
Kailen stood in place waiting for the glimmering portal carrying the two travelers inside to collapse and fade from view. The last ripple of air dissipated, and he exhaled a sharp breath. Talaith was departing the same way she’d reentered his life: escorted by a man of great power.
Their time together had gone by so quickly…
Letting go of his rigid control, he allowed the memory to rise. He returned to that late spring evening out in Soren’s garden, when a child he’d once met in tragedy, now an exquisite female, had emerged from a portal behind the Titanian. The flashback took over…
Shy and reserved, she’d gone to him to pay her respects. “Greetings, Master.” Her sweet voice had enchanted him.
He’d requested the help of an experienced sorceress and had expected Anna, Maya’s godmother to appear in the portal, so the switch to Talaith had been a total surprise. More importantly, seeing her had shaken and bewildered him in strange ways. Following his operating mode, he’d pretended complete indifference.
“Greetings, Talaith,” Kailen said. “Master is unnecessary.
Kailen is fine.”
“As you wish.”
She bowed and, keeping her gaze low, moved to the periphery, away from the conversation between him and Soren. An interesting behavior for a lady in the modern world. Evidently, Khnurn had raised her according to the ancient ways of magic wielders. Novices on the path to knowledge were stripped of all ego as they learned to respect and defer to those with power, experience, and age.
He studied her with more care. He was allowing the long-ago vision from Khnurn’s hut to alter his perception. This was no child, and if Khnurn had sent her to assist in making and bolstering wards and security shields, she had to be powerful already. This shy reserve had to be an innate trait rather than one ingrained.
Moving on to more important matters, he set the conundrum of Talaith aside as he’d urged Soren toward the greenhouse. “Let’s go inside. I’m sure you’ll enjoy some refreshments…”
He smiled, thinking about the moment when Talaith had displayed the first hint of her extraordinary abilities…
In a brazen, unexpected attack, daemons had breached the mansion’s weakened security rings, which forced Soren to whisk his mate out of harm’s way to Scotland. During the invasion, the beautiful glass conservatory was destroyed. Kailen had fixed it while Soren was away. Now the beveled glass edges sparkled in the afternoon sun.
Soren expressed his admiration. “You’ve been busy.”
Kailen did his best to make light of it. “All of us got a little excited that night, the werefoxes included. They helped with the repairs.”
“No one would guess anything had happened,” Soren insisted.
Talaith interrupted. “I see the damage. Partial destruction. It hasn’t been long enough to dissipate the image. Shock, fear, and resolve still hang in the air. Oh, something else. Unconditional love.”
What’s this? Kailen stared at Talaith. She was displaying signs of memory magic, a rare power most mages debunked as myth. Soren eyed him with obvious shock. Although he was as bewildered as the Titanian, he shrugged. He couldn’t allow anyone, least of all Talaith, to know she’d surprised him.
The Last Danann (Titanian Chronicles, #2) Page 7