by Shayla Black
“We must. They’re Merlin’s.”
And Bram would chap his hide, rightfully so, if he didn’t protect them.
“I want this information,” she explained, snatching up one of the yellowing tomes. “Running from Mathias isn’t the answer. We’re going to have to face him someday, and I’m going to be ready.”
Fear exploded in his chest. He couldn’t stand the thought of Felicia anywhere near Mathias. But Bram had dreamed it. Damn, he could only hope there was some way to change the future. Because if Mathias got his hands on her, he would use her … and kill her.
And that would destroy Duke.
Felicia shoved the rest of the books into his hands, then pushed her shoulder against the bookcase. Duke dove in to help.
The rapid drumbeat of the Anarki’s footsteps drew near. Another explosion rocked above, louder, closer. Bloody hell, Mathias had brought conventional explosives. So they knew Felicia was here … just as they’d soon know she was gone—if they got out alive.
Male shouts and mingled voices reached them. The Anarki were just outside the room!
With a mighty shove, Duke opened the portal behind the bookcase. He shoved Felicia into the dark space. “Run! I’m behind you.”
Thank God she did as he asked and dashed down the narrow, shadowed tunnel. Duke slammed the door, praying the Anarki hadn’t seen them.
The thick walls buffered the sounds of the attack, but he still heard the blasts, the shouting. He felt terrible about leaving the rest of the women to fend for themselves, but Sabelle and Anka were capable witches. Sydney, Kari, and Olivia knew exactly how to assist. They’d practiced for this eventuality. Felicia must be rescued at any cost. For magickind’s sake, Mathias could be allowed nowhere near Morganna’s tomb.
Books tucked under one arm, Duke darted after his mate, catching up to her in moments. Even in the shadows, her hair flew out behind her like a golden banner.
“All right?” he asked.
She merely nodded, clutching her books, and kept on, the pounding of their footsteps and labored breathing eventually smothering the battle noises as they slipped farther away.
About three kilometers later, they reached the end of the tunnel. Duke fumbled in the dark, then found a knob and opened the door. It squeaked, and he winced. Beyond lay a dark flight of stairs leading up to a cold, starry night.
Together, they plodded up the steep path, only to encounter more stairs. As Felicia mounted them, she panted heavily beside him.
Duke grabbed her elbow to assist. “Can I carry you?”
She shook her head resolutely. “I’m … fine.”
Stubborn to a fault, too. “You’re tiring. I—”
“I can do this! I refuse to be helpless.”
Unlike the night he’d abducted her, Felicia now understood the danger and insisted on doing her part. Duke had always respected her, but now his esteem for her climbed another notch.
At the top, he looked about for any stray Anarki loitering in the village. No one appeared in this sleepy little town in the dead of night. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Through the inky night they crept, around a corner, past a streetlamp reminiscent of the village’s bygone heyday. In the distance, the ocean rumbled into the bay. Every muscle tense, Duke kept one arm around Felicia and both eyes watchful for unwanted visitors.
A craggy little butcher shop sat off to one side. Its brick walls were surrounded by bare trees, their branches swaying with a stiff January wind. On the side of the building sat a strip of asphalt. And a gray Volvo.
Beside him, Felicia’s teeth chattered. Cursing the fact he’d had no opportunity to grab her a coat, Duke pushed her to the car. “Give me the keys.”
She set the books on the hood. He noticed then that she still clasped her bra in her fist.
Remembering exactly how he’d disrobed her and what had followed made Duke ache to sidle closer and slide a hand down her spine, toward her luscious backside. Bloody inconvenient time for the need to reassert itself. But keeping his hands off her was ridiculously difficult.
With a flush staining her cheeks, she shoved the bra in one pocket and retrieved the key from the other, then thrust it in his face. “Here. Where are we going?”
She was all business. Sighing, he pulled away. There’d be time to seduce her later, once they were safe.
He unlocked the car. “Get in and I’ll fill you in. I have a plan.”
With a sharp nod, she grabbed the books and climbed into the passenger seat. “I assume you’re going to drive as ridiculously fast as you did the last time?”
Probably faster. He merely smiled, revved the engine, and sped off.
Mile after mile of Welsh countryside passed in relative blackness while Duke gripped the wheel, downshifted to tackle tricky corners, then floored it on open stretches of road. He had to put miles between Felicia and Mathias to keep her safe.
“So what’s the plan?”
Felicia would balk. But in every other way, the plan was brilliant. It would keep her alive, and that was all that mattered.
“We’re going to London. Mathias, like every other wizard, knows there are lines he cannot cross without earning the wrath of the Council.”
“Council?”
He sighed. Of course she wouldn’t understand magical politics. “Magickind’s governing board. It’s comprised of seven wizards from prominent families.”
“Wow. I never imagined … but it makes sense that magickind would need a government.”
“The positions pass from a wizard to his male heir, much like titles of the peerage. Currently, Bram, Tynan, and Ice all sit on the Council. They vote as a bloc, doing their best to enact policies that will protect magickind and annihilate Mathias. The other four—”
“How could they possibly be against that?” Incredulity widened her eyes.
Duke sent her a cynical smile. “Politics are politics, no matter where you travel. Lucan and Caden’s uncle, Sterling, sometimes votes with the Doomsday Brethren. But he has an elder’s mentality on some issues. They don’t want to act too quickly and risk a misstep. The other three are either corrupt or terrified. They hope that placating Mathias will give him less reason to attack.”
Felicia’s jaw dropped. “That’s absurd. Placating him will make him bolder. History is full of such examples.”
“Yes, but Bram, Tynan, and Ice have had difficulty convincing the others. They know little of human history, and care to know even less.” Duke sighed. “Recently, the Council gave the Doomsday Brethren license to kill Mathias. That’s easier said than done, which is why we’ve been stuck at this bloody impasse. One thing Mathias could do that would force the Council to throw every resource at him is risk exposure of our kind to humans. Witch hunts—the Inquisition, for example—are too fresh in the memories of many. We’d invite mass murder and extinction.”
She sucked in a breath. “That never occurred to me. The Salem witch trials?”
He shook his head, smiling. “Most of magickind remains here in Britain. It’s difficult for us to cope without our own kind.”
“Right, then.” She frowned. “So, the plan is … what?”
“Hide in plain sight.”
***
Felicia peered across the small car’s interior at Simon. His profile made her heart stop. Elegant brow, strong nose, chiseled cheeks, full lips, square jaw. The feelings she’d been trying to bury since their interlude on the couch roared back to haunting life. The man moved her on every level. How had he known exactly how to touch her? How had he pleasured her so thoroughly?
Lots and lots of practice.
Shoving aside a sick pang at the thought, she forced herself to focus on the here and now. They were running for their lives. Matters of the heart would have to wait.
“I don’t understand,” she told him. “Hide among crowds? Blend in to the public?”
“Somewhat.” His hand tightened on the wheel. “You recall all the paparazzi hovering about your wedding?” When she nodded, he
pressed on. “We’re going to use them to our advantage. Our … departure together no doubt created a scandal. Paparazzi will be frothing at the mouth to scoop stories on us. We’ll keep the tabloids burning, and thus maintain a crowd around us. Since you’re Untouchable, Mathias will be forced to scuttle his magic and reach you via human means, which he knows little about. He cannot send more wizards to capture you. They’re every bit as clueless about guns and the like as he is.”
“What about the explosions at the cave?”
“Formerly human Anarki. Mathias abducts them, magically removes their souls, so he controls them. Without a soul, however, they’re dead inside, and the body slowly rots. Walking cadavers are a bit conspicuous among humans, so Mathias cannot employ them in public. Besides, Anarki aren’t good at restraining their urge to inflict mortal harm. Mathias needs you alive.”
“For now.” She clutched her hands in her lap, fear wending through her.
Simon enveloped her hands with one of his own in silent reassurance. “For now.”
“In other words, with a crowd about, Mathias will be hard-pressed to find any way to spirit me away to open Morganna’s tomb.”
“Precisely.”
Felicia drank all the information in. The idea had merit. Magickind must be keeping their secret fairly well or it would be all over the news. Of course there had been that one rag …
“Wait, didn’t Out of this Realm run stories about some magical war? Yes!” It was all coming back to her, some paper she’d seen one day on the Tube. “They even named Mathias and the Doomsday Brethren.”
“Which is exactly why we sent Caden in to shut Sydney up. She had far too much information. Now she reports for us.”
Clever, indeed. “So, we’ll milk our scandal, then?”
“And add to it. By the time we appear in London, the fact we’re a couple will be old news. I know these vultures. They always want fresh meat. We’ll give it to them.”
Felicia wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “Meaning?”
Downshifting, he turned to her with dark eyes full of gravity that made her stomach clench. “We’re going to announce our engagement.”
“What? B-but …” Felicia grappled for words.
She was now Duke’s magical mate. No denying that. They had consummated their union in brilliant fashion less than an hour ago. But they still had to worry about Mason. Her fiancé. His brother.
“It’s perfect tabloid fodder. One of England’s most eligible bachelors steals his brother’s girl and whisks her away, eventually romancing her to the altar. Naturally, the details of our pending nuptials will be a secret, for which they’ll hound us relentlessly.”
As much as she hated to admit it, the plan was brilliant. But she saw problems, too. “We must first explain to Mason that we aren’t really getting married.”
Duke clenched his jaw. “Why be dishonest?”
The truth detonated inside her. Felicia gasped. “Is that your way of asking me to marry you?”
“No.” He shifted, and the car lurched forward with a burst of speed. “To me, you already are my wife. We’ve spoken vows. I merely think we should make it official for my family and the human public.”
“I’ve known you for two days! You … this—” Felicia nearly choked. “It makes no sense.”
“It makes complete sense. I love you. You know I’m not lying, Felicia. And I know you feel something for me. Don’t deny it.”
He could bloody see right through her, and it scared the wits out of her. “Why are you pushing me? Mason would never—”
“Which is why you agreed to marry him, isn’t it? He was safe because he placated you, treated you as if you’re fragile. You knew he’d let you have your way in the relationship.”
Anger welled up, and she opened her mouth to deny every word, but he was right. She had trusted Mason because she’d believed he’d never demand that she let him into her heart. She’d been right up until her wedding day. The ugly truth hurt.
“I won’t have it,” Simon continued. “Fight with me. Scream at me. Insult me. I’ll take it. Or better yet, open up to me and tell me why you’re scared. But I’ll be damned if I let you hide from me.”
Felicia sank back in her seat. Though they traveled farther from danger with every mile, she couldn’t remember ever feeling more terrified. “Why me? I’m a nursery school teacher who comes from a family of no import. I have no money.”
“I don’t give a bloody damn what you do, where you come from, or how much money you make. I want you for you. I want the persistent, logical, sharp woman who asked me a million questions the night I took her away. I want the gorgeous one who surrendered herself to me on the couch.”
“But you’ve had … dozens? Hundreds?” She flinched. “Thousands of women? I’m not glamorous or sexy or—”
“Not sexy?” he snarled. “Damn it, I have no words for how incredible the sex between us is. I only know that I want more of you and that won’t change. Ever.”
“You think that now, but what if your feelings don’t last?”
He glanced upward, tense, grappling for patience. “If someone didn’t break your heart, what the hell happened?”
Felicia drew in a trembling breath. A refusal to answer sat on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t share Deirdre’s story with just anyone. The pain was too personal, too sharp.
Simon sent a concerned glance at her, and the sincerity on his face made her pause. He had sacrificed so much to save her. He’d risked family dissension, caused a scandal, given up his magical bachelorhood. He’d whisked her from danger twice, and hadn’t asked her for half as much, merely for answers. And he was right; she did feel something for him. Those feelings grew by the minute, both warming her and scaring the hell out of her. How could she deny him?
She clasped her hands in her lap and squeezed tightly so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “The Saffords adopted me when I was five. My father was a barrister, like Mason. My mother was a self-absorbed socialite who looked forward to club luncheons and galas. I suppose they married because he was wealthy and she was good arm candy. I don’t know if his firm frowned on the fact that he had no children or if they thought children would save their marriage. My mother didn’t want to ruin her figure with pregnancy. So they visited an orphanage and picked me out, based on a list of desired attributes. Somewhat like shopping for groceries. I was the most beautiful child, my mother said.”
“I’m certain you were. But certainly, they came to see how good and intelligent you are.”
“She didn’t care if I might be sweet, smart, interesting, honest, kind … whatever. She mostly concerned herself with whether I looked perfect in Christmas pictures they mailed to their friends and associates.” Felicia tried not to sound bitter, but knew she failed. The old hurt never faded.
Simon reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, Sunshine.”
“At the time they adopted me, they also adopted my older sister, Deirdre. We couldn’t be more opposite. She had dark hair like a raven’s wing. Glossy, straight. Sleek. When she smiled …” Felicia felt her own lips lift as she recalled her sister. “She lit up a room. It’s a cliché, I know, but she did. She loved people and life. When she went to uni, she’d come back on weekends and drag me to parties. I was always the wallflower, but by the end of every night, she had men pledging her eternal devotion and women their lifelong friendship. I adored her.”
“I can tell.” Simon squeezed her hand again. “But why would that make you so violently against love?”
Now the story got difficult. Felicia drew in a steadying breath, praying for strength. “About five years ago, Deirdre met a Russian diplomat’s nephew, Alexei. The man had the devil’s own good looks. Sophisticated. Beyond charming. Deirdre brought him home for the holidays to introduce him to our parents. He said he loved her.” Felicia clenched her teeth, molten fury coursing through her. “I knew he was lying. Deirdre was the only I’d told about my gift, and I begged her to brea
k it off. She insisted they were in love,” Felicia spat. “She bloody moved to Russia with the bastard.
“About a year later, she called me late one night, sobbing hysterically. Alexei had left her after admitting that he was married. And had a new mistress. Deirdre had merely been a fling. But he’d grown tired of her. God …” Felicia clenched her fists. “Her sobs tore at my heart. She begged, told him she loved him. He shrugged and told her to vacate the flat before Christmas.”
“Fucking bastard.”
“If I knew where to find him, I’d string him up by the balls.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Duke murmured. “I’d help you. What happened next?”
“I wired Deirdre money to return home for the holidays. She came, but Alexei had ripped all the life out of her. She stared at walls with these eerie, vacant eyes. She didn’t eat or sleep for days. Just sobbed. I’m certain our parents hoped her heartache would quickly pass. They went skiing for Christmas.”
Duke recoiled. “They just … left?”
“They were very attentive when it came to appearances, grades. We had all the best money could buy. Emotions? They never knew how to deal with those, so they swept them under the rug.” Bitterness slashed a jagged gash in her belly. “I took Deirdre to a counselor, set her up with a support group, rocked her when she screamed. Nothing helped.” Felicia swallowed, unsure she could even say the next words. She struggled against fresh tears. “Deirdre … committed suicide a few weeks later.”
No avoiding the tears now. They fell in a hard rain as she remembered Deirdre’s pale body lying lifeless on the brightly tiled bathroom floor. Felicia slammed her eyes shut and clutched her stomach as the sobs wracked her. “In-never thought she’d swallow a bottle of sedatives. She was my friend, my sister. All I had.”
Simon reached over and wiped away her tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“Sh-she said that love was the worst thing that ever happened to her. She wished to God she’d never given her heart.”
“And you saw what she went through and vowed you never would?”
“Deirdre shielded me from a lot of my parents’ coldness and expectations. She deserved happiness, not …” Felicia couldn’t say another word past her tears.