Wicked Enchantment

by Anya Bast

  She couldn’t allow herself to fall victim to it. She had to remain strong if she was going to be forced to stay so close to him through this ordeal.

  “Okay.” Her breath shuddered out of her. “Again, thank you.”

  “And again . . .” He leaned in closer to her, making her breath catch. His lips just barely brushed hers and her heart thudded in her chest. Then he bared his teeth. “Don’t thank the man who put you there just because he got you out.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Gabriel. I didn’t go to the Black Tower for you.” He hadn’t been the only reason, at least. “I went because I wanted to train my magick, to become useful, to have a goal in life other than shopping and attending balls. That’s all. I went to better my life.” She gave a harsh laugh. “To find out who I really am. How ironic.”

  He stared at her for a long moment before pushing up and away from her. “Well, you’re going to get your chance.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You need to learn how to come into your own as a necromancer. Luckily, I’m just the man to help you do that.”

  “I’m glad you’re so confident, but there’s one problem with your plan.”

  “And that would be?”

  “I left all my possessions back at the Black Tower and that means the Shadow King now has the book.”

  “Book? What book?”

  FIFTEEN

  “THE book.”

  The words were spoken softly, in a male voice. Magick oozed in through the cell phone and entered Carina’s ear like an airborne virus. Black and viscous, the druid’s spell made her jerk and go still, forced her to hold the phone to her ear and not throw it across the room despite the fact every ounce of her will to live screamed at her to do just that.

  “The book,” she answered breathlessly, fear draining the blood from her fingers where she gripped the cell phone. “You gave me more time to find it. Thank you for that.” Carina closed her eyes and plunged ahead. “I’ve searched everywhere for it. I even broke into Aislinn’s safe. I’ve asked everyone and . . .”

  “And?”

  Oh, sweet Danu, have mercy. She opened her eyes, focusing on a framed picture of herself and Drem that sat on a nearby end table. “If she ever had it, it’s gone. I believe she took it with her and she has it over there. In the Black Tower. Only . . .” She chewed her lip.

  “What?”

  “There’s been a lot of activity in the Black lately. The Shadow Guard and the goblins have been swarming the square and the city, even coming close to the Rose. It started right after Aislinn went over there. I don’t know for sure, but I think she may have been captured or killed. At the very least, I suspect some kind of trouble for her. If that’s true, then it’s possible the Shadow King has the book now.”

  If the Shadow King truly did have it, the Phaendir had no hope of recovering it. Either way, her job was done. Now she only waited for their judgment. She was so tired.

  She jerked as an invisible worm entered her ear, making her fingers go numb around the cell phone. The earpiece glued itself to her, preventing her from throwing the phone across the room.

  Silence.

  The silence was colder and blacker than the thick spell weaving its way through her brain, sucking the fire from her synapses one by one. It even stole her panic. She knew she should be frightened. She’d failed. So she knew she should say something. Otherwise he might decide he didn’t need her anymore.

  “No. I can still help you,” she whispered. “I can still—Spare Drem. Please.”

  The cell phone dropped from her hand and broke into spinning, fragmented pieces. Blood trickled from her ear as she collapsed sightlessly to her polished marble floor, her mind just as shattered.

  “THAT book you’re talking about, you said it has a dark red leather cover and vellum pages. It has a section in the back that can only be unlocked by fitting some object into a grooved area, sort of like a key.”

  She nodded at Gabriel.

  He walked to the window and pushed a hand through his hair. His voice was flat, almost stunned. “You said you found it in your father’s things after he died.”

  Aislinn stood from the couch, feeling shaky and weak, and walked over to stand next to him. “Yes.” She chewed her thumbnail while she stared out the living room window at the Boundary Lands. Apparently the book was more than just a guide for necromancers.

  “Danu. It must be the Book of Bindings. It’s been lost for thousands of years. That book was written when the Phaendir and the fae were allied. It’s the most complete book of spells known, a mixture of both fae and druid.” He paused and drew a breath. “Aislinn, that book contains the spell that can break the warding around Piefferburg.”

  “I’ve heard of it. I just didn’t know that’s what I had.” She supposed she should feel something, shocked and awed, maybe. She didn’t. Maybe she was shocked and awed out right now. She was so tired. It was a miracle she could even remain on her feet.

  “Who the hell was your father?”

  She turned and looked at him solemnly.

  “I mean your father, the man who raised you. Who was he?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t think he was anyone special aside from having very pure Seelie Tuatha Dé blood. He had nearly no magick at all that I know of, capable of only a few weak illusions. He had little power, but was placed very highly in the Rose Tower because of his pedigree, which I now know I don’t share.”

  “How did he die?”

  She turned back to the window and said nothing for a moment. It was a horrible memory. She’d always been so close to him. Since her mother didn’t really feel like a mother, when her father had died she’d felt orphaned. It was rather ironic, really.

  “He was killed in Piefferburg Square one night while coming home from a late dinner with friends. Random act of violence.”

  “Maybe not so random.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut because the thought had occurred to her, too. Had the book been why her father had been killed? “I don’t know. If someone killed him over the book, they never got it. There were no break-ins, no telltale signs someone was looking for it.”

  “If it was the Shadow King everything would be on the lowdown. He doesn’t want trouble with the Summer Queen. If it was the Phaendir—”

  She turned at that.

  “—they have no interest in calling attention to themselves when dealing with any of the fae races. It’s not in their best interests to stomp into Piefferburg. They’d come in on little cat paws. Secretly. Using threats and promises from the outside.”

  She blinked. “The Phaendir? Do you really think it’s possible they killed my father?”

  “More than possible.”

  “Tell me everything you know about this book.” She took a seat on one of the soft armchairs because—wow—this revelation was full of shock and awe that couldn’t be denied. She needed to sit down.

  “The Book of Bindings contains the strongest spells ever created. Some say the very pages of the book are doused in magick. The Phaendir possessed it, but lost it a long time ago in their conflicts with the Tuatha Dé. The spot in the back is where a puzzle box fits, the bosca fadbh. Have you heard of it?”

  “Of course. The bosca fadbh. It’s the only object that might have the power to break the warding around Piefferburg. The only problem is that all three pieces of the bosca fadbh are in the human world.”

  “Not anymore. Your friend Ronan Quinn was hired to obtain one of the pieces, but he double-crossed the Phaendir and returned to Piefferburg with it, even though he knew he’d be killed by the Summer Queen.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “That’s the artifact he stole?”

  Gabriel nodded. “He gave it to the Summer Queen to save Bella’s life, knowing the Summer Queen could do nothing with it since the other two pieces are unobtainable. No one knew the Phaendir’s book was in Piefferburg. Everyone thought it was in the human world somewhere, lost like the pieces to the bosca fadbh.
The book and the puzzle box are very old, Aislinn; they predate the trouble between the fae and the Phaendir. Once upon a time, thousands of years ago, we collaborated. That collaboration is the Phaendir’s weakness if we get our hands on the book and the box.” He stopped and smiled slowly. “And if it’s true that the Shadow King has the book and if it’s true that the Summer Queen has a piece of the box then we’re halfway to defeating them.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And the other two pieces of the bosca fadbh? They’re in the human world, unattainable.”

  “Never say never, sweetness. Never give up hope.”

  Biting her tongue against lashing out at him for the ‘sweetness,’ she let her hand, propped on the armrest of her chair, swing wide. “How does this help us defeat the Shadow King?”

  “It doesn’t. Not in the short term, anyway. Once the Shadow King sees the book and opens it up, he’ll know what it is and there will be no getting it back.”

  “The spell I need to call souls is in the book. I know because I called my father once with it.”

  “Do you remember the words you spoke?”

  She bit her lower lip and concentrated, dredging up a memory that seemed like it had happened years ago. “Not all of them. I didn’t know what I was saying the first time or that the words were important.”

  He walked to her. His long feet were bare and sank into the plush, deep, cream-colored carpeting covering the floor. “You don’t need any spells to help you. If you’re a true necromancer, the power to call souls is within you, inherent. You only need to tap into it. It’s written into your DNA.”

  She must have looked doubtful because he leaned over her in the same way he’d done in the kitchen—hands on the armrests on either side of her. It should have made her feel pinned, trapped, but it only made her feel safe. Still, she backed up against the cushion behind her in an effort to get some distance. She couldn’t help her attraction to him, but she could fight it tooth and claw.

  “It’s inside you, just like the power of the Wild Hunt is inside me,” he said, staring hard at her as though his gaze alone could instill the belief into her head. “Can’t you feel them talking to you sometimes? Murmuring in your head? Can’t you sense the lost ones out there calling for you—for anyone—to pay attention to them? I may not be a necromancer. I may only be Lord of the Wild Hunt, but I can hear them. I can sense them. You must be able to feel them, too.”

  He spoke with such passion. Clearly he loved being Lord of the Wild Hunt. She never would have guessed he loved anything more than women and sex. He put on the façade of jaded courtier so well that he’d never given her a hint of the man who lay beneath the shallow pretense. There was much more to Gabriel than what he displayed.

  And that made him even more deadly attractive to her.

  Remember how arrogant he is. Remember his selfcenteredness. Remember that he lied to you in the Rose.

  Remember he risked his life to save you.

  She cleared her throat and schooled her expression—not to mention the beating of her heart. “I can feel them.”

  “Good. That’s the seed. It’s already planted and, I’m sure, already budding. Now all we have to do is follow the stem and make it blossom.”

  He was looking at her lips again. He was also making birds and bees references. Her gaze found his lips. This was not going to work.

  “Turn off the charm,” she whispered, gripping the armrests.

  “What?”

  “Turn off whatever magick you use on women to make them sexually drawn to you.”

  His luscious lips curved in a cocky smile. Yes, there was the arrogance. “That’s not how it works, Aislinn, and you know it. You’re just looking for things to blame your attraction on.”

  He dipped his head before she could respond and caught her lips against his. She jerked back, but he followed her, pressing her head back against the cushion and slanting his mouth over hers with a groan in his throat. That groan made her think of naked bodies and silky skin, made her think of twisted sheets and fusing bodies. It made her wonder what it would be like if he kneed her thighs apart and slid his cock inside her. To what heights could a man like Gabriel take her in bed? A man like him, for whom sex was like breathing and with whom erotic promise was almost certainly fulfilled?

  “Give it up. Stop fighting so hard,” he whispered against her lips. “Give it up to me. Just givein to me, Aislinn.” He nipped her lower lip and she shuddered with lust.

  “Gabriel.” She’d meant his name to come out strong and clear, meant for it to act as a warning and make him stop. Because she wasn’t sure she could make him stop—wasn’t sure she wanted him to stop. His name came out breathy instead.

  He yanked her up in one smooth movement, flush against him. The breath hissed out of her and she knew she was well and truly lost to him. One more kiss and she’d be his. He dropped his head and rubbed his mouth over hers as though savoring the taste of her lips.

  It sealed the deal.

  Her nipples stabbed through the material of her sweater and her breathing began to quicken. She’d come so close to death in the dungeons of the Black Tower and now she tasted life—vibrant and erotic—on Gabriel’s lips. He could make her feel flush with blood and vitality and chase away the death that had clung to her for the last week.

  She went up on her toes and pushed her mouth against his, spearing her tongue into the hot recesses of his mouth. Pulling back a little she murmured, “Yes,” against his lips.

  He groaned in the back of his throat and picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him as he carried her through the living room and into the bedroom. Dropping her gently, she fell into the tangle of sheets and blankets on the bed. He stood over her, looking down at her like she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid eyes on—like she was the only one in the entire universe he wanted to make love to.

  For now, she’d believe the lie. Right now she needed to believe it.

  “Take your sweater off,” he said.

  She slipped it over her head and tossed it aside. Wearing no bra, her nipples tightened from the combination of cool air in the room and his hot, roving gaze. She leaned back against the pillows, her heart thudding.

  Slowly, his gaze locked with hers, he unhooked the button of his pants, undid the zipper, and slid them over his hips. His cock was hard, long and wide and as beautiful as the rest of him—broad shoulders melting into a muscled expanse of chest leading to narrow hips and strong legs.

  Taking a couple of steps forward, he came over to her and slid her pants and socks down and off, leaving her bare from the waist down. Sliding his hand over her outer thigh and up her hip, he held her gaze. Everything he wanted to do to her seemed to dwell in his eyes. Then he lowered his head to her breasts, licking and sucking at each hardened peak until she squirmed beneath him, her back arching.

  His hand dipped between her thighs and stroked her softly until a small moan escaped her throat and she sank her teeth into her lower lip. His cock pressed into her thigh as he used his thumb to pet her clit, making it plump and pulse with need. Sliding two fingers deep within her sex, he thrust in and out just the way she wanted his cock, all the while either sucking one or the other of her nipples into his mouth or whispering sweet, dirty things to her.

  “Gabriel, please,” she whispered, her fingers tangling his hair and roving over all the skin he allowed her to touch. Not his cock; he angled away every time she got close.

  He held her fast on a threshold of pleasure. Sexual need dominated her body and her mind, overriding all else. He could push her over the edge, give her the climax she craved, but he never gave in. It was like torture.

  “Tell me you want to come, Aislinn. Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

  Danu, she’d say anything at this point. “I want to come. Gabriel, yes, please fuck me.”

  The fingers deep inside her unerringly found her G-spot and stroked it. At the same time, he rubbed her clit with his thumb, steady p
ressure that was just right. She came. Her climax washed over her like a tidal wave, stealing her thought, her words, even her breath. She gasped and her back arched, body shaking in gentle convulsions of absolute pleasure. The muscles of her sex pulsed around his still-pistoning fingers.

  Just as the waves of her orgasm began to ebb away, he moved between her legs. With strong hands, he pushed her thighs apart and held them down, then lowered his mouth to her. She jerked in surprise at his sudden movement, but he held her fast, sucking her climax-sensitive clit between his lips. Slowly, softly, he coaxed her past that uncomfortable postorgasm point and into pleasure again.

  He groaned and closed his eyes as though she was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted and all her muscles relaxed. She melted back on the pillows, watching him. The erotic sight of his dark head between her thighs was almost enough to make her come again, but what he did next made it a certainty. He tongued and licked her very sensitive bundle of nerves until her climax ignited once more. Pleasure ripped through her body anew and she bucked against his wickedly skillful mouth in a second orgasm.

  By the time he was through she lay boneless on the bed, sated beyond her imaginings. He leaned over her and kissed her deeply. She could taste only the faintest trace of herself on his tongue. She twined her arms around him and tried to pull him down on her. She wanted to feel him inside her, wanted to return the favor of the pleasure.

  “No,” he whispered against her lips. “Not yet, Aislinn. We have time for that later.” He kissed her forehead. “You’d be surprised how healing a good orgasm can be. Sleep now.”

  Riding the gentle waves of utter sexual fulfillment, she did just that.

  GABRIEL stared down at Aislinn, who slumbered beautiful and naked in a tangle of bedclothes. His gaze traveled for the millionth time over the creamy skin of her hip and stomach and the spread of her hair on the pillow. He’d spent most of the day next to her, just watching her while she rested.