Xia shook his head. And then he looked at Kynan and said, “Warlord?”
She peeled her attention from Xia to look at Kynan. “Warlord?” Oh, crap. If a mageheld was the second scariest thing a girl could meet, well, a warlord was supposedly the first. “He means you, right?” From what she’d read about warlords, much of it questionable, she was looking straight into a whole new world of trouble. Warlords were fiends with enough magic to fry a dozen mages without a sweat. Warlords commanded armies of fiends loyal to them, fiends who lived to do their bidding, whatever that might be.
“Yeah,” Kynan said, obviously enjoying her realization of the skyscraper-sized hole she’d dug for herself. “He does mean me.”
She didn’t know all that much about the world mages lived in—much of the information she had access to was incomplete and wrong—but she knew enough to figure that smart-assing her way onto a warlord’s shit list was stupid beyond belief.
“That’s what I am.”
Ice formed around her heart, and yet the odd thing was, she had a glimmer of hope. If he had that kind of mojo at his command, then he wasn’t all hot temper and talk. He could do something about this. “So, Warlord, how do we fix this?”
He smiled, but he wasn’t trying to reassure her. “I don’t think you’ll like the answer.”
“If there’s a way to avoid this sinking ship, I’d like to hear about it.” She sat back down on her chair.
“Easy,” Kynan said. “It starts with your blood and ends with me taking control of your magic.”
“Permanently,” Xia added. “He means permanently.”
Chapter 21
Xia didn’t give a flying fuck if Kynan had the magical muscle to fix this or not. The warlord wasn’t going to play nice; Xia knew that for a fact. He kept himself still, staying in his cross-legged position on the bed. He was a bit in shock that he was thinking he needed to defend a witch without being coerced. But here he was, ready to defend Alexandrine Marit from Kynan Aijan. Rasmus Kessler’s little girl. Shit. He’d spent too many years enslaved to her father to have anything but hatred for the magekind. They were vermin who ought to be wiped out, and as far as he was concerned, Alexandrine’s father was public enemy number one. Right?
But he was determined to keep her away from Kynan. She was in this mess only because she’d put it all on the line for him. Giving up a talisman and calling Kynan when she was afraid he might die. Who’d have thought a witch would ever do that for someone like him? So, right, he owed her. That wasn’t all, though; he was starting to worry there was more between him and Alexandrine than a debt. More than blow-his-mind sex. A lot more.
“What’s the matter with you?” Kynan said. “You want to stay hooked up with a witch?”
“Fuck if I know.” Big fat lie there. The world had changed without him noticing until it was too late. He was all hung up on a witch. He and Alexandrine couldn’t stay like this, but he sure as hell wasn’t turning her over to Kynan with his reputation for dealing out pain. Not going to happen.
Kynan faced him and deliberately blocked Xia’s line of sight to Alexandrine. The warlord pressed the tip of his index finger to Xia’s forehead, and Xia let him in, because connecting with one of the kin was normal, necessary, and in a situation like this, required if they were going to get clear on what was and what was not going down. The kind of mental separation humans endured every minute of their lives would drive one of the kin to madness. He accepted the connection and even took some level of solace from it.
“I can help you,” Kynan said softly. “You know I can.”
“I know, Warlord.”
“Then why the hell do you not want me to fix this?” The warlord’s body filled his vision; Kynan’s magic filled his head. Alexandrine was there, too, a presence that got them both worked up, because she was a witch, and her magic was arousing to the kin. Their downfall. Kynan understood a lot now. But not everything.
Xia gave him access to his memories of Alexandrine. All of them. From his initial meeting with her to their sexual encounter, and what he was when he finished. He gave Kynan what he knew about her past and her learning the truth about the talisman she wore, up to and including her agreement to dope herself with copa despite the risks and her personal feelings. And that was the thing, wasn’t it? He didn’t want to lose her, and he wasn’t delusional enough to think that wasn’t true even before he screwed up and linked them in both directions.
“Don’t be an asshole, Xia,” Kynan said. The sexual memories got the warlord jacked. Alexandrine was amazing, and when he changed? That was best of all. There weren’t many free fiends these days who got down and dirty with a witch, and doing a human when he was changed was totally forbidden without all kinds of precautions, none of which Xia had taken. “We both swore fealty to Nikodemus.” His hand now cupped the back of Xia’s head, and there wasn’t any mistaking how the warlord’s sexual state of mind and body was fixated on Alexandrine. “I’m not letting you go down without help, Xia. Not to a witch. Not to Rasmus Kessler’s brat. You need my help. Take it.”
Xia leaned away, getting Alexandrine back in his line of sight. She was sitting on her chair, very quiet. Keeping a low profile, though he knew she’d gotten at least some of the exchange between him and Kynan. She was there with him.
“There’s another solution,” Kynan said softly. He swept his thumb across Xia’s mouth and then down along his throat to the cut Xia had made for Alexandrine. His connection with the warlord felt good. He’d been isolated with Alexandrine long enough to want the link with one of the kin. None of his kind wanted to go long without connecting with other kin.
“Yeah?”
“Kill the witch.”
Alexandrine’s magic flashed but didn’t do much, though she did drop out of the psychic connection. Neither he nor Kynan brought her back in. She pressed her spine flat against her chair, watching them with eyes wide and skin the color of white ash. Her eyes were losing that copa-induced gold, but her pupils were still pinpoint small. Killing Alexandrine was out of the question. He’d kill Kynan before he let that happen, and he let the war-lord see that.
“You’re messed up right now, Xia. You won’t feel this way when she’s gone.”
“She’s Harsh’s sister,” Xia said. He tipped his head, giving Kynan access to the knife cut in his neck. The warlord pressed a finger on the wound and sent a pulse of magic into it. He came away with his fingers smeared with Xia’s blood. “You can’t just off Harsh’s sister.”
Yeah, and if Kynan tried, Xia would kill him, warlord or not. No matter what Nikodemus might decide to do to him afterward.
Kynan licked the blood from his fingers, and Xia got a rush of connection between them. The warlord’s expression reminded him that Kynan hated the magekind as much as if not more than he did.
“You’re a worthy warrior, Xia,” Kynan said.
Xia pressed three fingers to his forehead in acknowledgment. Kynan released him to stand in front of Alexandrine, head tipped to one side. She gripped the sides of her straight-backed chair like she was afraid she’d go flying off if she let go.
“I’ll kill her for you,” he said. He addressed Xia, but he was looking at Alexandrine.
“No, Kynan.” He had a burning urge to walk over and plant Kynan a facer just for mouthing off like that.
“Kill me and be done with it?” Alexandrine laughed. “That’s pretty pathetic if that’s the best you can come up with.”
Had to admire the woman’s nerve, talking back to a warlord like that. Was Kynan thinking of Rasmus and his white-blond hair when he looked at Alexandrine? He didn’t anymore. She wasn’t anything like her father. Or any of the magekind he’d known. None of them would have put themselves on the line for him. But Alexandrine had.
“Xia doesn’t like my suggestion.” Kynan put a hand on Alexandrine’s shoulder, drawing a finger up to the nick Xia had made in the side of her throat.
Xia forced himself not to physically react. He had a b
ad feeling about this. Really bad. The warlord pulled. He sounded all casual and shit, but Xia felt the excitement in him, and a definite arousal. He wanted Alexandrine. Her magic, her blood, and her body. Red welled around Kynan’s finger. Not happening. Kynan Aijan wasn’t going to get anything going with Alexandrine. No way.
“Killing you is the simplest solution for us all.”
“Why don’t you kill Xia instead?” she asked. Her sarcasm was lost on Kynan. “Wouldn’t that solve the problem, too?” She put a hand to Kynan’s wrist and pushed hard enough to break their contact. “Oh, right. But then you’d still have a witch on your hands.”
Kynan turned his torso in Xia’s direction, licking Alexandrine’s blood from his finger. Their psychic connection flared hot. “See? She doesn’t care about you.”
“You asshole,” Alexandrine said.
“Do you want me to do it?” Kynan asked. “I’m not afraid of Harsh. I’ll handle him. Right now, Xia, Harsh is planning how to take your head for this disappearing act of yours. If he finds out you kept her alive until I got to her, you can come back whenever you want. You’d be a hero, practically.” He smiled, but it was a smile that reminded Xia of the kinds of things magehelds dreamed of doing to their mages. “She tastes good, Xia. Give me a spare room and an hour or two to get good and worked up to it, and the witch isn’t a problem anymore. Guaranteed.”
Alexandrine shot to her feet, magic coming out of her wild and scattershot. Her fear changed the balance of emotions between them. Not for the better, unfortunately. Xia got a charge of adrenaline, an instinctive reaction to strong emotion from one of the magekind. He wanted her locked down, under his control. His. Totally his. And Kynan wanted the same thing. Same means, different result.
She was staring at Kynan, her eyes wide open and face dead white. Xia’s head filled with the image of him pulling himself on top of her, skin to skin, and biting hard enough to draw blood. Sweet, hot blood. Witch magic resonating in his bones. The problem was the image came from Kynan. That was what Kynan was thinking right now. And the warlord was a nanosecond away from making it happen.
“Get the hell away from me, you sick fuck.” Alexandrine pushed Kynan away. Her attention shifted to Xia, and, wham, the connection with her was like a bomb going off in his head. She felt it, too. He knew it made her feel alive. Bam again. Three way. The minute Kynan was back in the connection, all three of them knew a part of her was turned on by the idea of the warlord touching her like that. She didn’t like the idea—Kynan frightened her—but something in her wanted it. Bad. What a wicked witch she was.
Her magic echoed in Xia. Hell, he could feel her pulling, and that cranked him up. He and Kynan both responded. Kynan got a hand around the front of Alexandrine’s throat and immobilized her before Xia could act. The built-in lure of her magic for his kind was tinged with a sense that she belonged to the kin. Worse than their desire to subdue one of the magekind, with her having that spice of kin in her, her challenging Kynan was like dangling fresh meat in front of a starving lion. Kynan was a warlord, and he wasn’t made to overlook a challenge. Nobody challenged a warlord without a death wish or believing he had one hell of a good shot at surviving the consequences.
“You’re very beautiful.” Kynan brought Alexandrine closer to him. He was reacting on two levels now, his nature as a warlord taking care of a challenge from a lesser fiend and as one of the kin reacting to one of the mage-kind. Alexandrine was up on her toes, both hands clenched around the warlord’s wrist. “We’d have some time first. Before I kill you. Several hours, even. I could make your last time good for us both.” He ran his free hand through her hair, letting the white-blond locks spill through his spread fingers. “Would you like that, witch?”
“Let her go,” Xia said. He was dealing with his own set of reactions to what Kynan was doing. His muscles rippled as the urge to crush Kynan flooded him. He crouched on the bed, ready to leap, a growl rumbling in his chest. He didn’t care that he was dizzy or that he hadn’t recovered from the mess after the talisman’s magic had shot into him all at once. He wasn’t reliable enough to take on a warlord and hope to come out alive at the end. But he was going to try.
“Come off it, fiend.” Kynan stroked Alexandrine’s cheek. “It’s not like she won’t betray you eventually. In your own immortal words, she’s a fucking witch. She ought to be dead. Let me take care of this.”
“You’re not killing her,” Xia said. On some level, he agreed with Kynan. Hell, yes, killing Alexandrine would solve their issue. But killing her wasn’t going to happen. He was responsible for her. For her situation. And, anyway, she wasn’t like the magekind who came after the kin. But most of all, he just couldn’t give her up. She was his, and he wanted it to stay that way.
“Your funeral, fiend,” he said. “No killing the witch. But that leaves only one way to fix this.” Kynan’s magic went full on, filling the room with power Xia couldn’t help but respond to. Even Alexandrine reacted. Kynan set both hands on her face, tipping her head toward him while her hands curled around his wrists.
Her eyes darted to Xia, the whites of her eyes showing. “Is this really the only way?” she asked the warlord.
“Yes,” Kynan said. “It is. If you want it fixed right.” Alexandrine nodded, and Kynan smiled while he brought her closer. “Then let’s go, witch.”
The connection went hot and dark and right at the edge of going out of control. The three of them were hooked into each other, and the link was seriously, beautifully fucked up. No wonder Kynan Aijan was feared. He was a sick monster. The magic filling the room quivered. Xia didn’t doubt the warlord could do just about anything he wanted to with it or that Xia and Alexandrine would be right there with him while he did.
Kynan leaned closer to Alexandrine, and the connection between the three of them went deeper. Jesus. They were throwbacks to the way things had been before everything went to hell between humans and the kin. Before the magekind started fighting back. Before assassins like Durian were necessary to put a stop to the kin’s predation of humans when it seemed like there was still a chance to save the way things used to be.
Magic flowed between them, sharing, even soothing, the chaotic effects of the talisman’s magic. Damn, but Kynan had some powerful shit going. Xia felt practically whole. Energetic, almost. And Alexandrine’s magic was an alluring spice, amping him and Kynan. The warlord’s hand moved forward, raking through Alexandrine’s hair. Through their connection, Kynan felt her magic the way Xia did. An intimate bond of witch with fiend thrown in to make her irresistible. If Kynan was remembering the sex, it was without distinguishing the fact that he hadn’t been her partner. The memories were shared and real to them all. Alexandrine herself might not be capable of making that distinction right now.
Kynan released Alexandrine. She tilted her head to keep looking at him, offering—if only she knew… well, maybe she did—her throat to a monster already smelling blood and high on power. Just to help a bad situation get worse, Kynan’s interest level ratcheted up along with Xia’s. Throw a warlord’s power into a volatile mix and watch everything go boom.
Kynan set the tip of his finger to Alexandrine’s forehead. “Ready, witch?”
Her mouth was open as she panted, but she reached up a hand and grabbed Kynan’s wrist. Cords of sinew and muscle stood out in her forearm. The skin over Xia’s back rippled, and he let the change take him, because killing Kynan would be quicker and easier if he wasn’t burdened with his human form. “She’s not agreeing. Get away from her, Kynan.”
Kynan turned to Xia. “You’re sure? I thought you didn’t want me to kill her for you. There are two solutions to this that I see, fiend, and you know it. Kill her or I take her magic. That’s it. There’s no door number three.”
“Get away.” Xia was on his feet now, standing on the bed, ready to leap. Wanting to leap.
“As you wish.” Kynan released Alexandrine, and once again, she dropped out of their connection. He kept a hold of his magic,
though. “You two can stay like this, then. Have a long and happy life. All six weeks of it, if you’re lucky.”
“Shut up. Both of you.” Alexandrine pulled in a deep breath. The room stayed silent while Xia and Kynan stared at her. “He has to do this,” she said. Her eyes were hardly gold at all anymore. Back to nearly vanilla. “Think about it, Xia. I sure don’t want to be following you around like a puppy until the day comes when you can’t stand it anymore. Because let me tell you something in case you hadn’t noticed: We can’t be more than five feet apart before we both start getting the shakes.” She looked at Kynan. “If you take my magic, Warlord, what happens to me? Would I still be able to pull?”
“No.”
“Alexandrine—”
She lifted a hand in Xia’s direction. “It’s better this way,” she said. “I never really had any magic, anyway.” Alexandrine took a deep breath. “All right, then, Warlord. Do it.”
“Fuck this,” Xia said. He grabbed the front of Kynan’s shirt and yanked the warlord forward. Kynan budged, a little, but he kept an eye on Alexandrine like he wanted something tender and human for lunch. And it seemed he did, having volunteered to take Alexandrine’s magic and with her having just said that’s what she wanted. Like hell was Kynan going to do that to her. She was his, and nothing was changing that. Kynan pushed Xia hard.
“Stop it!” Alexandrine’s voice shook. “Geez, you two are like little boys. Can the macho shit, would you? I said let’s do it. So let’s do it, all right?”
“You don’t understand,” Xia said. Oh. Crap. Completely the wrong thing to say. Alexandrine gave him a glare that could have melted steel; she was that hot with anger.
“No, you don’t get it, Xia.” She leaned toward him. “You don’t get it at all. Since the minute you walked into my apartment, you’ve been telling me what people like me do to people like you. Did you think I wasn’t listening? Or not paying attention to what my father was trying to do to you?” She blinked hard. Xia didn’t miss the glitter of tears. Kynan stayed close to her, and Alexandrine didn’t back away from him. She threw a hand into the air. “I fall apart if we’re twenty feet apart, and so do you. Do you want to live like that? Could you? That’s twisted and sick.” She closed her eyes for half a second. “We’ll start hating each other for real, and I don’t want that. I really don’t.”
My Forbidden Desire Page 21