This man…not only was there an intangible, undeniable link between them, but he’d survived her. He’d tasted and touched her, given his energy, and it hadn’t hurt him. In fact, he seemed all the stronger for it. “I don’t know your name.”
“Drustan.” He stared, assessing her with an obscure gaze. “Some call me Dru.”
“Drustan.” She let his name roll off her tongue, everything even more intimate now that she knew his name. Dru with his dark eyes that seemed older than his years. Dru with a mysterious scar near his left temple. Dru that could chain her to a wall and then hold her tenderly against him.
“Everything okay?” he asked after another long moment.
Her brain struggled to regain control of her body and her thoughts. “It’s fine.”
Dark eyebrows rose toward his almost-shaved hair. “Fine?” It was as though she’d insulted him beyond forgiveness.
“Good?” She seemed to be missing the intent behind his question.
His serious gaze cracked into a disbelieving smile. “In the many days I’ve been cursed to crawl this earth, I’ve never been labeled fine. Or good. Like my performance was barely satisfactory.”
“Ohh…” He wanted her to rate him as a lover. It surprised her to find the battle-hardened soldier had a vulnerable side. He moved beneath her, his rock hard erection evident against her thigh. Vulnerable and potent, it seemed.
“However, I’d have to disagree with your assessment if your endless cries of ecstasy were any indication.”
“Endless?” A heated blush stole over her. She might have expressed herself vocally a time or two. “I think that’s overstating things.” She pushed off his chest, needing some distance before he stole her sanity again.
He secured her with solid arms, bringing her back into alignment with him. “Are you afraid you’ll fall to my undeniable charms?”
She smiled, not sure how to handle this sexy, flirting side of him. Danger, worse than what she’d encountered the previous night, lurked in his teasing eyes. “There’s nothing undeniable or charming about you. You’re the one who fell under my spell.” She placed her hands on the sides of his face, prepared to give him another demonstration. One that didn’t end with her in a melted puddle of exquisite sensations.
Before she could kiss him, he rolled her over and pinned her to the bed. “I don’t think so.”
She was about to challenge him again when she realized both hands holding his jaw were bandaged when only one had been before. She frowned.
“When did you wrap my other hand?” Unanswered questions flooded her mind, pushing away the lovely, newly-discovered pleasure of basking in the afterglow. “More than that, when did we move to the bed?”
He looked away before rolling to his feet, the antique bed groaning as he robbed it of his weight. Chilled air took his place. “A while ago. You were asleep.”
“No.” She shook her head and sat up. He might have swept her off her feet, but he hadn’t completely incapacitated her. “I would remember something.”
“I guess I’m that good after all.”
She paused, trying to pinpoint the odd feeling nudging her. She glanced across the room to where the shackles hung from the wall. The handcuffs he’d brought rested on the table next to the bed. Then she focused on him again.
“You’re dressed.” She glanced down. “I’m dressed.”
He shrugged. “It never warms up down here. I didn’t want you to get cold.”
She narrowed her gaze, vivid memories flashing in her mind. “You ripped my blouse off my body before you held me against the wall and made wild, passionate love to me.”
“I did? We did?” He swallowed. “No, I didn’t.”
She climbed off the bed and fixed him with a heated gaze. “Yes, you did.” She jabbed her finger against his solid pecs.
“Don’t lie to me. You’ve already as much as admitted we had sex. You can’t deny it, unless…” Anger exploded inside her. “Unless it wasn’t real.”
She stepped back from him. “Was that another illusion you conjured? You son of a bitch.”
He folded his arms and stared at her with obsidian eyes. “You should thank me.”
“For what?”
“For sparing you the humiliation when I rejected your advances. For allowing your fantasy instead of suffering while I tended your wounds. You obviously enjoyed yourself, so spare me your indignation.”
The breath of air she’d held while he spoke slipped from her lungs instead of fueling her response. He’d rejected her. Worse, her powers no longer worked on men. The test kiss with the cabbie must have been a fluke, and she really had lost her ability. The one thing that kept her going.
“You’re a cruel-hearted bastard,” she whispered. “Just kill me or let me go. I can’t stand to look at you anymore.” He’d slaughtered her hopes that there might have been someone in the world who could survive her, who could give her more than she took from him…the hope she might one day…
She couldn’t bear to consider her broken dreams another moment. She dropped to the bed and turned her gaze from him. She couldn’t pretend to guess the motives behind his actions, but he’d get nothing from her from now on.
Minutes ticked by, but he didn’t move. Neither did she.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” The mattress sank as he sat next to her.
She tucked in her lips. She would not allow him to draw her into conversation again.
“I meant it when I said it wasn’t right that we’d been forced to take opposing sides. Unfortunately, it happens with war.” From the corner of her eye, she could see him flex his fingers wide and then clench his fist as though acting out his frustrations.
“The gods gave us our destinies when they sent us here. I can’t deny mine any more than you can deny yours.”
She couldn’t hold her words any longer and turned to him, wishing she could access the fire burning in her heart. “What the hell are you talking about? Destiny and opposing sides? I’m not fighting whatever imaginary war you have raging in your head. I’ll say it again. Kill me or let me go.”
A hollow sadness filled his eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t do either.” He fell back on the mattress in a show of defeat.
She turned to find him staring at the ceiling. He seemed so vulnerable, so…real at the moment. “Why?” she asked, starving for answers.
“You say you don’t know, and maybe you don’t. Maybe your ignorance is part of the gods’ game, but your appearance in Port Townsend will set about events that will bring an end to this world.” He paused, meeting her gaze with a foreboding one of his own. “Unless I stop you.”
A shiver raced across her skin. She wanted to discount what he said, to argue his craziness. But too many things cast doubt against her certainty. He was obviously no ordinary man, and she knew she had certain powers over people. Or at least she had in the past. Or maybe her powers were only useless against him. Still, she’d never wielded anything strong enough to end the world.
She also had to consider the compelling summons to return home. Whoever had sent that was no ordinary person either.
Dru studied her with midnight eyes. “My task is to bring about your demise, or face consequences that will bring about the end of humanity.”
He couldn’t be serious. But she could see that he was. “What are you waiting for?” she asked, not certain she wanted the answer.
He looked at her, his solemn gaze studying her eyes, then her mouth, before he blinked, breaking their connection. “I’ve spent my life preparing for this moment, preparing to do the job when the time came. But nothing prepared me for the internal battle I’d face when I realized you were my target. I should have taken you out from a distance. I should never have gotten close enough to see the fire burning in your eyes or touch your soft skin.”
He sighed. “Perhaps after all this time, I’ve grown weary of war and long for something more.”
Her breaths grew shallow as she considered
his words. By all rights, she should be dead. Her blood should be on his hands. “I guess I should beg you to kill me now. I don’t want to be responsible for the fate of the world.”
He gave a sardonic laugh. “Neither do I.”
“I don’t want to die, either,” she whispered.
He moved like a rattlesnake, one second relaxing on the bed, the next sitting alongside her. “Give me your hand.”
She held out the least tender of her hands, and then sputtered when he grabbed the cuffs and secured her to the headboard. “What the hell?” She’d thought she’d made some headway with him just now.
He stood. “I need to talk to someone, figure out a way around this. In the meantime, you’ll need to stay down here. I’m not leaving the house, so don’t think you can escape.” He fired a warning look in her direction. “It will be in your best interest if you remain quiet and don’t let anyone know you’re here.”
Chapter Eight
Gwen knocked on Dru’s door precisely at ten. The woman was more punctual than a clock, and the soldier inside him appreciated that. He opened the door and let her probing gaze and invisible fingers caress his face, his biceps. He was certain the witch didn’t realize he could sense her touch, and he’d never bothered to impart that knowledge for fear she might stop.
“Good morning.” He smiled, enjoying the way her icy blue eyes warmed when he greeted her. By nature, she was a cold person, nothing like the heated, sensual fire witch he had chained in his basement. Still, when Nick had warned him of the impending doom, he’d resumed his residence in Port Townsend and made friendly with some of the locals, including Gwen. He’d enjoyed toying with her, pushing her beyond her comfort zone. “Please come in.”
“Salut, Dru.” She glided past him, her platinum hair and turquoise skirt flowing behind her like an airy breeze, reminding him of the cool, salty ocean. She wasn’t two feet into the house when she stopped suddenly and turned to him with an alarmed gaze. “She’s here.”
“No,” he answered quickly as he directed her into the living room. “She was, but I moved her last night. Please sit.”
Gwen searched the area as though looking for something only she could see. “Her power is strong.” She settled gently on the couch, watching him as though she anticipated an attack.
“Would you expect her not to be strong?”
“No.” She shook her head. “What’s she like?”
He slipped on the mask of indifference he’d used so many times when double-crossing allies in order to fuel a battle. “I haven’t had enough time to interrogate her to find out. I will later today. But as you said, she’s strong. Not stronger than me, however.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You have tortured her here, though. I sense her agony.”
That knowledge nipped him harder than he’d expected. “I’ve done what I must.”
Gwen smiled, seeming to take perverse pleasure in the fact. “Why haven’t you killed her already? Why take the chance?”
He nodded, trying not to give away too much. Gwen belonged to a dangerous coven in town, the same coven to which Claire’s mother had once belonged. Unlike Claire’s mother, her aunt Justine still lived and participated with the group. The fact that he’d invited Gwen to his home, given her proof Claire was in the area had been a dangerous, yet necessary tactical move. The witches of Port Townsend spread gossip amongst the town like one of his buddy Julian’s virulent diseases. His only hope rested on the fact Gwen and the others opposed Claire’s two sisters. He’d waged his success on knowing the coven wanted him to succeed as well and would not disclose information to the two women who threatened them.
“She’s in a secure place where she can do no harm,” Dru said. “She received a summons, but she has no idea why nor who sent it. She knows nothing of your coven or her sisters.”
“They must know she’s coming. You have to kill her. Do it now before they realize she’s here.” Panic tightened her features, stealing some of her loveliness. “The coven tried to kill her sisters and failed. They joined. Their powers have increased exponentially, making them all the more dangerous. Justine is highly concerned about what they might do. We all are. They’re not capable of apocalyptic disaster yet, and we must prevent that. This witch cannot meet them.”
“I agree,” he said in a voice he hoped would calm her. “You were correct when your visions showed her coming to town. I’ve interfered as is my destiny, and I will keep her from joining them. I’ve asked you here for help. I need to know if there’s any way to kill her powers instead of her.”
The witch studied him with suspicion. “Why would you want this? Why not just kill her?”
He sighed. “It’s more complicated than I expected.”
She lifted her nose as though the air might provide her with more details. “She has power over you.”
“No.” He couldn’t admit that. “I believe she has information on the fourth sister, something that will help us locate her. We know she exists. Otherwise, one of the witches wouldn’t have been able to open the First Seal.”
They’d had so many false starts throughout history, but the time had finally come.
“Claire will die,” he continued. “But it’s imperative we keep the other sister away as well. You’ve just said the two that have joined are a threat. It would be wise to keep that threat from growing, even if it can’t rise to the apocalyptic scale.” Intel on the last witch was a secondary reason, but it provided good cover.
“Claire,” she repeated with a musical lilt. “You know her name?”
“Of course I do. I’m a master of collecting intelligence on our enemies.” He purposefully stressed the word our, playing up the unconfirmed alliance. “I need to know if there’s a way to neutralize her so I can extract further information before I kill her.”
She heaved a sigh. “A blood oath will keep her from practicing magic.”
“How?” He needed the details, and he needed them now.
“If she mixes her blood with yours or whoever she’s promising, she will be bound to that promise until she dies.”
“There’s no way she can break it?”
“Only the person who owns the oath can break it.” She gave him a sly look. “If you carry that oath, you do realize you’re placing yourself in a dangerous position. If the sisters find out, they will search you out relentlessly until you break it. You could never allow that to happen.”
“I’m a warrior, Gwen. I will die before I let anyone break me.” Although he doubted anyone on the mortal earth could kill him or one of his brothers.
“Hmm…” She nodded. “I do admire that about you.” A soft caress fluttered over his cheek.
He ignored the feeling. “Tell me the exact specifications of this blood oath.”
****
Dru waited another twenty minutes after Gwen had departed the area to be certain he wouldn’t give away his secret. One whiff of Claire’s presence sailing on the wind, and he’d have the whole damned coven flocking down on him.
He descended the stairs and opened the thick, metal door that had kept her immediate presence a secret. She waited inside, sitting on the mattress, still chained to the bed. He was grateful she hadn’t struggled and hurt herself this time.
Her amber eyes reflected a darker hue, her face a mask of anxiety. “Who was here?”
He strode forward and sat on the bed next to her. “Another witch.”
“Witch? Is that what I am then?”
“Did you not know?” He couldn’t imagine it being so, but her power did hold a raw, untamed edge. Not to mention, other than her trying to seduce him the previous night, he hadn’t sensed any particular use of magic.
She shook her head slowly, obviously bewildered by the information. “My mother or sister, the woman you compared me to, she must be a witch then as well. That’s how she summoned me.”
“Yes.” He knew he played a dangerous game, giving her any information, but he’d learned if he allowed a few tidbits, it
paved the way to trust, and he’d eventually gain much more.
“Why did she wait so long to find me?” Pain and confusion painted her expression, longing evident on her face.
He took her hand and unlocked the handcuffs, rubbing warmth back into her fingers. “I can tell you this and so much more, but only on one condition.”
Her eyes brightened, but still held wariness. “What condition?”
He braced himself for the fatal move, the one that would end the war if he succeeded. “As a witch, you have power. Possibly, more power than you realize. I’ve already told you of our destinies, and you’ve denied your intent to do harm.”
She nodded.
“I’ve discovered a way that can render you harmless without taking your life. If you agree, I can tell you all you wish to know and more. It requires a blood oath between us, giving up your ability to cast spells, but it will protect you and your family along with the rest of the world.”
“My family?” She said it with such wistfulness, reviving his long dead heart. “There’s more than one person?”
He nodded. Using those words had been a calculating move on his part, another cannonball volleyed in this emotional and intellectual battle. “You’ve said you don’t want to harm anyone. The oath will prevent you from doing so, and it will erase the need for me to take your life. I’ll be effectively killing your powers which will satisfy the prophecy without actually having to kill you.”
“Then we would no longer be on opposite sides?” she asked in a soft voice.
“No. We could be friends.” Or more. He stared into her beautiful eyes, wondering if there might be a life after destiny. One he might explore and share with her. She would no longer have powers like he did, but she’d still have that beautiful mind, that fighting spirit that called to him.
“I’ll do it.”
Chapter Nine
The voice in Claire’s head screamed in protest as Dru left to collect the necessary items to complete the ritual. She addressed those thoughts, countering with rational explanations of why this would be the best choice. She’d no longer be able to control men with her presence, but who cared? She finally had the opportunity to connect with people. The sexiest man she’d ever encountered could be her friend. Another thing she’d never had in her life. The dark fires burning in his eyes when he’d said it suggested there might be more than that.
Which Witch is Which? (The Witches of Port Townsend) Page 13