Witchlock

by Dianna Love

  Were still deteriorating.

  Tzader kept walking and forced his lips into a smile.

  He had little time to make headway with her, but it could be too much time if she became agitated. She’d been through a lot and he would not press her for more than she could handle.

  But his warrior queen was strong.

  Somewhere inside that body still lived the woman who had waited within the walls of this warded castle for four long years, seeing him only in hologram form, just to do her duty as a Treoir.

  His woman had been raised a fighter.

  She sat cross-legged on the cushions. In her lap lay an enormous album that had leather binding softened by a century of wear. The large pages made her hands appear as small as a child’s holding a normal-sized book.

  He tried not to think about how fragile Brina looked. She’d never been fragile, but everything she’d been through recently showed in her sad face.

  She closed the album and held up her hand in a silent order, forcing him to stop three strides short of her.

  He obeyed her silent request, but it took all of his control to hold back from bundling her into his arms and drawing her close to bring peace back into her face. “I’d like to visit with you.”

  She blinked, closed her eyes, then opened them, frowning. “I know you … but I’m not bringin’ you clear to mind.”

  Her Irish lilt curled around his heart and hugged him. “You do know me and, if you’ll let me, I’ll help you remember a lot of things.”

  Standing this close and not touching her reminded him of the years he’d suffered without her in his arms and his life, sating his loneliness for short periods only when one of them visited in holographic form.

  His father had bequeathed his immortality to his only child without Tzader’s knowledge.

  Tzader had come to terms with the unfairness in life, and now cared only about today and tomorrow.

  Brina studied him. “Tell me somethin’ that I should be rememberin’.”

  A thousand memories rushed forward, all clamoring to be the one that brought her back. “There is a huge tree not far from here where we once swam as teenagers. It was our spot.”

  He’d made love to her there the first time, and again in his dreams just over a week ago, but his dreams didn’t count. She had to remember what happened for real.

  Her eyebrows dropped low as she thought hard on something. Sending him a wary look, she asked, “Were we at the tree ... recently?”

  “What do you call recently?” he said, curious to see where this was going.

  She shrugged. “In but two weeks past.”

  “No.” Not unless he could show her his dream.

  “Oh.” She sounded disappointed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I recall bein’ in a place such as that only a wee time back with a man and we were ... ” Her voice trailed off and she couldn’t meet his gaze. “It matters not since it was not you.”

  Who the hell had she been to their spot with, and what had they done? “What did you do at that tree?”

  Her cheeks blushed and jealousy stormed his body, because he knew exactly what she’d been doing with a man. He demanded, “Who was this man?”

  She put aside the album she was holding and stood. “Do not dare to raise your voice to me.”

  He heard her, but he had been put off by Macha and would not leave her without finding who had dared to take her to their tree. “I want a name, Brina. Now.”

  If she said Allyn, that guard would regret his audacity for the rest of his short life.

  She pointed to the doorway. “Get out!”

  That order had rung with the power of Brina the Belador warrior queen everyone missed, and would have made Tzader happy to see one part of her return, if not for what she’d said.

  Raising his voice had been the wrong move.

  He took a step closer and hoped Macha didn’t show up to interfere. Brina’s eyes widened with the shock of anyone defying her.

  Keeping his tone gentle, Tzader spoke as he eased closer to her. “You might be confusing the time, because that’s one of our memories. That tree was our favorite place, our secret place to meet. But the last time was four years ago.”

  She shook her head, now distracted by his words. “Why would we have gone there then and not recently?”

  He held her gaze as a bridge between them, moving another step closer as he spoke. “Because your father helped Macha ward this castle against immortals before he went to battle the Medb four years ago, and without knowledge of that, my father asked for Macha’s promise to pass his immortality to me. I couldn’t touch you until I broke the ward.”

  The soothing sound in his deep tone had to be working because she appeared mesmerized and murmured, “How did you ... break the ward?

  “I rushed through it to protect you when the Medb attacked Treoir.” He lifted a hand and ran it over her hair, surprised to see his hand tremble, but this was their first real touch in four years. “I died when I crossed the ward, but through a miracle I was revived. Just not fast enough to reach you before you were attacked with Noirre majik.” He paused to lean closer. “I killed the traitor and I would kill a thousand more if they tried to harm you.”

  Then he kissed her.

  A gentle kiss. A little hello from their past to remind her of their first kiss, but she leaned in and his heart banged against his chest with more happiness than he’d ever believed he’d feel again.

  Brina remembered him ...

  He cupped her face and continued the kiss, slowing only to say, “The last time we were at our secret place we made love under that tree. Your first time and I’ll never forget it. Never give you up. I love you, Brina.”

  She froze and pulled back.

  He didn’t try to stop her.

  She touched her lips. Confusion and wariness struggled in her gaze. “But we were not married then, correct?”

  “No, but we pledged ourselves to each other before we made love.”

  “Pledged? I hold the power for the entire Belador tribe and I gave myself without marriage?” She took a step back, her legs bumping the window seat. Humiliation crawled up her neck in red splotches. “You took advantage of me when I was what? Eighteen?”

  Heat crawled up his neck at being accused of something so disgusting. “No. It was consensual. You were an adult.”

  “Why didn’t we marry then?”

  “I told you. Our fathers screwed up or we would have been married by now.”

  She challenged, “We couldn’t have married somehow? What if I’d been pregnant?”

  “Then we would have married.”

  “But only if I was pregnant?”

  “What? No.” Tzader took a step forward and reached to calm her, but the room spun out of focus and his step ended up on dirt and rocks outside the mountain headquarters of VIPER.

  He roared in fury.

  Chapter 9

  Two hours before daylight, Evalle quietly opened the door to her dark apartment. She slipped inside ahead of Storm, who made no sound as he followed. They tiptoed past the futon Lanna had requested for her bed, where she was currently crashed out, dead to the world.

  Feenix slept next to Lanna, curled up on his beanbag chair with his little wings tucked in and clutching his favorite alligator stuffed toy.

  Evalle smiled at the peaceful scene. It gave her hope that this living arrangement would be fine after all. Lanna wasn’t staying forever and Feenix would get used to Storm being here. Her little gargoyle had just been frightened the first night.

  Squawking, screeching and flapping wildly for the best part of an hour as he wrecked everything he ran into.

  Lanna had tried to help by making Feenix’s toys fly, but that had turned the place into even more of a circus.

  Evalle didn’t want to think about that right now.

  She’d spent this past week dwelling on it every waking minute, which had been pretty much the whole time since she couldn’t
remember the last solid sleep she’d had. Not when she suffered nightmares of Storm changing his mind about living with her. She’d come up with a plan. That’s what Quinn and Tzader, her best-friends-slash-surrogate-brothers, had taught her.

  Tackle a problem by coming up with a strategy.

  Their advice always sounded good on paper, but once she waded into trouble up to her neck, she generally just started killing everything until she could walk away.

  Not exactly a strategy for sorting out a personal crisis that was probably all just in her mind.

  Probably.

  Moving in stealth mode down the hall, she stepped inside her bedroom and left all the lights off except the fused-glass night-light Feenix loved. It threw a kaleidoscope of color over the room.

  Storm shut the door and started shedding clothes.

  She’d begun doing the same, but paused to admire the view of the hottest man alive.

  Cut muscle wrapped him from neck to ankles and the man was entirely at ease nude, but who wouldn’t be with an Adonis body like his? He had beautiful teak-colored skin covering a powerful physique. Reaching up, he flicked the leather thong away that had held his black hair, letting it fall past his shoulders.

  He smiled without looking her way.

  He’d caught her ogling him and clearly liked it.

  Evidently she was taking too long to undress, because the next thing she knew he was in front of her, unzipping her jeans and pulling them down.

  She laughed, happy for the first time in a week, and stepped out of the jeans, which he tossed aside. She couldn’t recall Storm being so messy.

  He caught her face with his big hands and stared deep into her eyes. “I like the sound of you happy.”

  “You’re the cause of it.”

  “I like that too.” He kissed her, using his mouth with the precision of a maestro, tuning her body to a fever pitch that would sing the minute he plucked a few choice cords. She ran her hands up his chest and marveled at the fact that he was hers.

  His hands touched and explored. Every part of him moved in perfect sync.

  One particular part thudded against her abdomen, letting her know just how much he’d missed her. She eased down and grasped him in a firm grip and he stilled.

  All that power at her mercy.

  She moved her hand slowly up his length.

  He groaned, a deep feral sound, then lifted her until she had to release him and hook her legs around his waist. Then he headed for the bathroom, which was nowhere near as spacious and well appointed as the one in the house where he’d been living.

  Another negative of Storm being stuck underground with her.

  He’d showered here that first day, but alone, because she’d been busy trying to calm Feenix.

  She had a moment of panic, berating herself for not allowing Quinn to incorporate all the upgrades he’d intended for this apartment. She’d been so determined to stand on her own two feet and take no charity, that she’d refused any luxury Quinn had tried to push her way under the excuse of being her landlord.

  Which he was, but she received a monthly stipend like every other Belador warrior and could pay her bills.

  Storm sat her on the vanity and eased away, leaning down until his face was all she could see. He shook his head. “What are you worrying over now?”

  He couldn’t read minds. She knew that.

  But he was a strong empath. If she told him she was embarrassed by the cramped quarters, he’d tell her it didn’t matter. He’d blow it off. He couldn’t outright lie or his Navajo gift for detecting a lie would backlash on him with physical pain. That didn’t mean he hadn’t figured out how to skirt the truth by being clever when he felt it necessary.

  She opened her mouth and closed it.

  He said, “If you don’t want to say what’s bothering you, that’s fine. It’s better than feeling like you have to shade the truth with me, because you don’t and you know that right?”

  “Right.” She knew it in her heart, but her mind was not in sync with her heart lately. She finally admitted, “I’m tired and not up for any discussion.” Not now when they finally had a moment to themselves.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Evalle looked past him toward the bedroom door. “Now what?”

  “I’ll check. You get the shower started.”

  ~*~*~*~

  Storm wrapped a towel around his waist and walked slowly enough for Evalle to start the shower noise before he opened the door. He found her critter outside.

  The half-pint gargoyle lifted his chin until his bright orange eyes stared up, unblinking. When Feenix spoke it sounded like a teenage boy, but came out as an order. “Evalle.”

  She’d warned Storm that her pet didn’t have a big vocabulary, and after that first meeting Storm had also learned the little guy frightened easily. For that reason, Storm tried to sound calm and patient when all he wanted was to be alone with Evalle. “She’s getting a bath and going to bed. Evalle is tired. You should go to sleep, too.”

  “Evalle,” Feenix repeated, not moving an inch. This time those orange eyes flamed bright then narrowed.

  Evalle described Feenix as harmless.

  Storm had survived by being able to read what truth lay beneath the surface in a confrontation with an animal or a powerful being. Deadly animals on the prowl attacked.

  So did frightened ones, and Storm’s presence unnerved Feenix.

  Storm wasn’t sure where a gargoyle fell in the food chain, but he wasn’t taking any chances with something capable of torching a pizza with fire from his snout. Yeah, he’d heard that story, too. Evalle had thought it charming when Feenix tried to cook her a pizza in the oven with his own built-in blowtorch.

  Storm thought it sounded dangerous if the gargoyle ever lost his temper, but things had been so tense between him and Evalle since he walked in carrying a duffel last week, that he would not start in on her pet.

  As long as the gargoyle didn’t harm Evalle.

  Feenix showed no sign of budging.

  This wasn’t going well.

  Evalle would come looking to see what the problem was if Storm didn’t return to the bathroom soon. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, feeling the long hours and two hundred miles he’d spent running in jaguar form before stopping at his truck, where he always kept an extra set of clothes.

  He couldn’t have survived waiting until later this morning to see Evalle.

  He dropped his hands, determined to find peace with Feenix, but someone saved him from round three.

  Lanna padded down the hall from the living room. Blond curls stuck out in six directions and the teenager wore powder-blue warm-ups. She squatted down, yawning, and patted Feenix on the shoulder. “Evalle has been working many hours. She is tired. We will visit tomorrow, yes?”

  For Lanna, the little guy’s eyes turned into pure charm.

  What a con artist.

  Feenix smiled at her and said, “Yeth. Morrow.”

  She smiled at Storm, letting him know she’d handle it.

  Storm mouthed the words thank you over Feenix’s head. He was just closing the door to the bedroom when he heard a sharp sound and opened it again to find a burn spot two feet off the ground.

  Lanna turned the corner, still holding Feenix’s hand. At the last second, the gargoyle gave Storm a long look and poofed a streak of black smoke at him, then disappeared into the dark living room.

  Might as well accept the truth.

  This was not going to work for long, but Storm wanted Evalle relaxed and happy tonight. The discussion on living here could wait for now. He shut the door and used a quick chant, creating a spell to prevent any sound escaping this room.

  Now for his welcome-home gift waiting in the shower.

  He opened the glass door, stepped into a cloud of steam, and found Evalle under the showerhead with a hand propped against the wall and water gushing over her. He curved his arms around a wet and naked Evalle from behind.

  Holding her was
all his best dreams wrapped into one.

  Still leaning forward, she reached back to touch his thigh with her free hand, always touching him now that she knew him intimately.

  He’d taught her to enjoy touching and was damned proud of her.

  She’d overcome a hellish childhood that included being raped by a man she’d thought was the family doctor.

  If the guy hadn’t died in a wreck back then, Storm would ...

  “Can’t breathe,” she laughed and patted the arm around her waist.

  He immediately eased his hold, pushing his mind away from murderous thoughts.

  Now was not the time to think about anything but this woman. Reaching up, he cupped her breasts and brushed a finger over each nipple, teasing each one into a hard little bead. She arched back against him and trembled.

  Storm had run Tzader’s team hard for a week and it had been worth every argument and gripe.

  The only one who hadn’t argued was Trey, because he had a woman he loved just as much waiting at home, too.

  Getting back to Evalle just one minute sooner would be worth any effort. He kissed her neck and bit lightly at the same moment he pinched her nipples just enough to wring a cry out of her.

  She sucked in a breath and stilled suddenly.

  He leaned close, whispering, “I soundproofed the bedroom and bathroom.”

  She let out her breath and her voice purred. “You think of everything.”

  Only for her.

  “Keep your hands on the wall,” he told her, because he knew how tired she was. He’d first thought to encourage her to climb into bed and get the sleep she clearly needed. As much as he’d wanted her, he could have been content holding her while she rested.

  But the one night they’d spent here had stressed her out and left her with a wary look of worry he hadn’t been happy about leaving.

  Right now, he wanted to remind her that she was loved, and that she was his. Next he’d drain her of all the pent-up energy surging around her. His empathic gift kept picking up on that.

  Once that was gone, she’d sleep soundly, tucked up against him where he’d be able to rest with her safe and content.

  She lifted her head. “I want to feel you so much you have no idea.”