An Immortal Descent

by Kari Edgren

  My mouth fell open a fraction of an inch as the breath caught in my throat.

  “From the look on your face, I wouldn’t be the only one to enjoy it.”

  I slammed my teeth together hard. Damnation. I was mad at him. Very, very mad. I needed to remember that, and stop behaving like a filly in heat in the presence of a stallion.

  Inhaling a long shaky breath, I did what I could to force my emotions back to anger. With my shoulders near the waterline, I scooted toward the side of the tub and crossed my arms protectively over the crest of my breasts.

  Henry arched a brow at me. “Not in the mood for a wrestling match? That’s too bad. Perhaps another time then.”

  I glared at him. “Why are you doing this?”

  “We need to talk, and other than tying you to a chair, this is the only way I can think to keep you from running away.”

  The truth did little to lessen my sullenness at being trapped. “Have you considered that maybe I don’t want to talk yet? That holding me prisoner will only worsen the situation?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “You’re free to go at any time.”

  “Oh!” I cried in frustration. If not sitting naked in a tub, I would have thrown my arms up in exasperation. “You’re impossible!”

  A slow smile spread across his mouth. “Just practical. Either way, it’s a win-win for me.”

  I tossed a handful of water at him. It fell short, wetting the stones at his feet.

  “Does that mean you’re ready to talk?” He bent a knee, propped the sole of one boot against the wall behind him. “Or do you need more time to soak? I’ve all day, so no need to hurry on my account.”

  “That depends,” I shot back. “Are you ready to apologize for behaving like a bloodthirsty barbarian?”

  “I assume you are referring to the incident with Sean.”

  A burst of angry air rushed from me. “Well, let’s see. Did you cut off any other hands today?”

  Henry shook his head. “Just the one. None of the other men were foolish enough to threaten you.”

  “Is that supposed to make it all right?” Anger boiled straight to the top of my head. “Good heavens, Henry! You maimed a man over a few ill-spoken words. At first I thought it a matter of survival as you were so outnumbered, but then you admitted to never being in danger. How can you even think to justify your actions now?”

  His shoulders took on a stubborn set. “He has both hands last I saw.”

  I gave a derisive snort. “Only because I happened to be close by. Which you didn’t know at the time, did you?” I forged on, well aware of the answer. “It’s by sheer luck that I arrived in Wexford when I did or Sean would be sporting a stump right now. And don’t you try to deny it.”

  “As you say,” he ground through clenched teeth.

  “Good. Then we can move on to the part where you admit to being a barbarian and apologize for hurting my brother.”

  “I’ll do no such thing. Sean attacked me first, and then came back a second time once I shoved him away.” Golden firelight glowed on his face, illuminated the tense line of his jaw. “As far as I’m concerned, he got what he deserved.”

  Exasperation took over, and I pushed myself to the very edge of the tub, sending another wave over the side. “How can you say that? No one deserves to be brutally disfigured over something so inane.”

  Henry’s expression turned hard as stone. “Let me be clear, Selah. After what he said, your brother is fortunate to still be alive. Any other man, I would have run through without a second thought. For your sake alone, I took the hand to spare his life.”

  I gaped at him. “What is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing,” he snapped. “I’m not the one who stormed off to sulk in a tub.” He flung one arm in a wild gesture, taking in the whole of the small room. “How long did you intend to hide in here?”

  “Don’t try to make this about me, Henry. All I want—”

  “What do you want, Selah? A full admission of my guilt? Would that make you feel better?”

  I jutted my chin out. “Yes, it would.”

  “Well, that’s a shame as I have none to confess. During the fight, I made a conscious decision to maim your brother with the full knowledge that the damage would most likely be permanent.”

  “Most likely?” I scoffed. “How did you figure that?”

  “He’s goddess born. I assumed some of his companions would be the same so there was a small chance the hand could be reattached. But to be honest, I didn’t care either way. I do not regret my actions, nor would I act differently if given the same situation. Your safety is my first priority. Any man who threatens that shall be dealt with accordingly, Sean included.”

  For a moment all I could do was stare at Henry. In every physical aspect he appeared the same man—tall, broad shoulders, light brown hair. Yet the deadly edge in his voice alluded to a well of violence I hadn’t known existed. The difference was subtle, intangible, and infinitely more dangerous. Even from ten feet away, I sensed the raw tension contained in his tightly coiled form.

  Was this the man I knew and loved? Granted, Henry could never have been mistaken for a pacifist as he had already killed two men in the Colonies to protect me. And then in England, he’d threatened to kill a score more, including Julian for stealing a kiss. But my own brother? When had Henry turned so vicious?

  The fire popped. Red sparks shot up in a rapid arc before gravity took hold and pulled them in a glimmering shower to the flagstones.

  They might as well have landed on my heart for the pain that smoldered there. “This isn’t like you, Henry.” I spoke softly, the anger having given way under an onslaught of worry. “You’ve changed somehow. The man I knew would never have purposefully harmed someone I loved. Not when there was another way.”

  “Nothing has changed.”

  “Don’t tell me that when I can see otherwise.”

  Henry sighed and I felt the tension slacken between us. “I’m the same man you met in the Colonies. The same man you fell in love with. The only difference...” He stopped midsentence, leaving me hanging.

  “What difference?” I urged.

  A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It’s of no concern.”

  “Please tell me or I’ll never understand what happened today.” And without understanding, forgiveness felt very far away.

  He scrubbed a rough hand over his face. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Selah. Luck or not, your brother is fine, so can we just agree to let it go?” Weariness laced his deep voice. “I’m tired of arguing.”

  As was I, but the issue had gone past Sean into something else altogether. Silence settled around us while I debated what to do next.

  The only difference... That small, incomplete statement had spoken volumes. Henry was purposefully holding something back—something big that I needed to know. Yet at the moment, there seemed a better chance of extracting a tooth than the truth, and I saw but one way to get any sort of answer from him.

  I placed my hands on the tub’s edge. “Close your eyes.”

  He looked at me for a long moment. “Do you intend to run away? If so, I’ll save you the trouble and go myself.” He began to push away from the wall.

  “I’m not leaving yet. And neither are you.”

  This got his attention. “Very well.” Leaning back against the wall, he closed his eyes.

  Milky water sluiced over me as I stood and climbed from the tub. Shallow puddles formed on the flagstones around my feet. Henry tilted his chin up at my approach, and though his eyes remained shut, he tracked each step with a startling awareness.

  Self-conscious, I drew my arms together to help hide my nakedness. “No peeking.”

  He smiled, much like a wolf. “I wouldn’t dare.”

  A gentle tou
ch to his forearm was all it took for him to relinquish the towel. Shaking out the cloth, I wrapped it around myself, tucking in the ends to keep it in place. Then I stepped even closer and slid both arms around him.

  He responded at once, opening his eyes as he ran his hands up my bare arms to my shoulders. Heat burned in my skin from his touch.

  “Does this mean we’re done arguing?”

  I nodded, temporarily incapable of speech.

  “Good.” His deep voice vibrated through me, a sudden strike to the flint deep in my core. Flames blazed to life, and I shivered from the heat.

  His hands moved to my back, pressed me even closer. “I love you,” he breathed. Dipping his head, he touched his lips to mine, tentative and featherlight as though he were holding back.

  My mind grew fuzzy, and without warning, desire pooled like warm honey in my stomach. I needed more of him, to have him fill every crevice and space with his being. Fire coursed to the surface, and a small moan escaped me as it flowed unhindered into Henry.

  He crushed me to him, an iron hand on my back as the other moved up to cup my head. His mouth turned hard, demanding more, and I whimpered into his lips when his desire rushed back, a raging river so intense it saturated my senses. A darker, deeper current stole my breath.

  The flames leapt higher, desperate for air. Fire rushed from every pore to lap over my skin where it met a wildness I’d never felt before, never dreamt possible in a human.

  The gentleman in Henry had always kept a tight leash on his less civilized side. Now the two were at war. His savagery spiraled red and black, filling my lungs, coursing through my veins. Primitive and fierce, it nearly consumed me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A Battle of Wills

  Henry alone existed. The bathing chamber disappeared, taking with it every thought of a world beyond his arms. There was only passion and love, war and hunger, as each breath drew the battleground deeper inside me.

  Heat seared through my body, and the next thing I knew his shirt was free of his breeches and his light brown hair fell unbound to the shoulder. I threaded my fingers through the silken strands, overwhelmed by the feel of him.

  “I want you,” he murmured, “more than life, more than anything in this world.” Deepening the kiss, he stole any remaining shreds of reason. My legs turned to liquid fire, and I clung to him, incapable of supporting my own weight. His hand tightened on my back, pulling me even closer.

  Without thinking, I moved against him, and the towel loosened around me.

  Breaking the kiss, his ragged breath scorched my lips. “Keep still,” he commanded.

  I whimpered in protest. “Please, Henry...” I arched upward, loosening the towel a bit more.

  He responded with a pained groan. “Stop moving, or I’m going to take you right here.” His arms shook as he struggled to keep hold of what felt like the very last vestige of self-control.

  Power filled me. I felt alive and entirely out of control. It was going to happen, and there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.

  Gentleman...barbarian. I spoke to them both. “Then take me.”

  Henry went still. I waited, not sure what to do next when slowly, he moved us a half circle, pinning me to the wall with his weight. I gripped his shoulders, digging my fingers into the hard muscle. His heartbeat thrummed against my chest, matching my own. Desire lit his eyes to emeralds.

  “Not here,” he rasped. “Not now.” Strong hands ran up my arms.

  I shivered. Why not?

  He took hold of my wrists and gently pried my grip free. “Get dressed,” he bit out, lowering my arms to my side.

  My body refused to obey. “I don’t want to.” I reached for him, but he turned away, putting his back to me. His hands were clenched to fists.

  “Wait—”

  A hard breath scraped from his throat as he rolled his powerful shoulders. Then he stalked from the room. The door shut, and I slumped against the wall, the towel lying in a heap at my feet.

  * * *

  A large bed took up the majority of the rustic room that Seamus had procured for Ailish and me on the second floor. Rough carved bedposts poked up at each corner to house what turned out to be a rather lumpy mattress. At the head of the bed, I leaned back against an overstuffed pillow, my bare toes tucked into the folds of a fresh woolen gown retrieved from my saddlebags. I sipped from a small porcelain teacup, all the while wishing to swap the steamy liquid for something chilled. At the moment straight ice would have been preferred to help counter the residual effects from the bathing chamber.

  Henry had steered a wide arc around the bed, opting to sit in the armchair near the hearth, where he stared at me with the watchfulness of a tiger—a very hungry tiger that had been deprived of food for far too long.

  To be sure, I wanted very much to be that food. Curled up against the pillow, my body ached for him. Every part of me wanted to be his in every possible way. Having him so close, watching me like a sharp-eyed predator...it was all I could do not to jump off the bed and go to him. Tight lines etched his handsome face, and it took no effort to discern his thoughts. I swallowed back a whimper and focused on my tea instead.

  We needed to talk, except that I had no idea where to even begin. No doubt he would readily admit to frustrated desire as evidenced by the splotches of color that still stained his cheeks. But what about the wildness I’d felt raging inside of him? Was this the difference he’d alluded to earlier? If so, he had seriously misspoken when using the term “only” to describe it. Much like saying the king was only part of the monarchy. Or a tiger was only a cat.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t recall ever feeling anything so powerfully savage before. At least never in another human being. The one vague similarity came from the time I’d healed a bull’s broken leg. The process had nearly gotten me gored, and though it had ended well for all involved, I’d been shaken by the creature’s primal aggression.

  As for Henry, from our very first kiss I’d sensed a certain degree of wildness in him, just safely subdued beneath the gentleman. But today was so much more—almost like he had experienced an awakening of sorts.

  What could it be?

  One possibility was residual stress from the swordfight. Seven to one would get anyone’s blood pumping, and for the vast majority of men, the uneven odds would have pushed their instincts to basic survival. The theory seemed plausible, until I factored in Henry’s cavalier smile and flippant remarks about never being in danger.

  If not leftover stress, then what?

  What else could explain the intense savagery I felt swirling around alongside the civilized man? And even more worrisome, why hadn’t I been frightened to the point of cowering? Or frightened a little bit, for that matter? If anything, this darker, more primitive side of Henry had served as tinder to my already heated passion, turning me quite literally into a wild thing. If Henry hadn’t found the will to stop, our final destination would have been straight to the floor, without a scrap of cloth between us.

  And that wasn’t the worst of it. I pressed a surreptitious fist to my chest over a small burning sensation lodged just beneath the sternum. After Henry had broken the kiss, a part of the whirling chaos had stayed behind. It reminded me of a piece of hot coal, closely banked for the time being, though one small breath would bring it roaring back to life. And once the sparks started flying, I held no delusions of being saved by some maidenly will that would steer me clear of trouble. Any will I had at the moment would run the shortest path to the strongest currents and deepest waters. In order to behave, physical contact had to be limited. Perhaps even discontinued altogether, or it would be the bathing chamber all over again—

  “I want us to be married.” The abruptness of Henry’s deep voice brought me back to the present.

  Still, it took several seconds for his
meaning to fully register. “So do I, once we’re done in Wexford.”

  “No, Selah. I want us married by tonight.”

  My mouth fell open, and I stared at him in disbelief. “Tonight?” I managed.

  “I can have a magistrate here within the hour.”

  An hour! Was he mad? “Try to be serious. We’ve no time for that, as you well know.”

  “Upon my soul, I’ve never been more so.”

  One look at his face, and I knew he spoke true. “Oh, Henry,” I sighed. “If I had my way, we’d be wed this very moment. But we can’t. Not today.”

  Leaning forward, he propped an elbow on his knee. “Do you love me, Selah?”

  “How can you ask such a question? Of course I love you.” I pressed a hand above my left breast. “My heart belongs to you. It beats in your chest as much as my own.”

  He returned the gesture. “As does mine, which is why we should marry tonight.”

  Yes, we should...”No.”

  “Tomorrow then.”

  My expression turned incredulous at his persistence. “In case you’ve forgotten, we came to Ireland for reasons other than a honeymoon.” A twinge of guilt poked at my ribs from the time we had already wasted. “How can you be sure Deri and Nora aren’t hiding somewhere in Wexford?”

  “Because I’ve spent two days searching and have guaranteed a large reward for any word of their whereabouts. I promise, as of this afternoon, no one has seen hide nor hair of them.”

  “I see.” Lips pressed together, I returned the teacup to the tray beside me.

  “It’s also how I became acquainted with your brother,” Henry continued. “He heard me asking around for you and demanded to know my interest. Needless to say, he took the news of our betrothal poorly.”

  “So it would seem.”

  “Which is one of the reasons I want to marry tonight. I am fed up with being told that we are ill suited. The king, my father, your brother, everyone has an opinion.”

  I was equally tired of all the opinions, but that didn’t mean we could abandon our other responsibilities. “Not while Nora is in danger. I can’t even think of anything else until we’ve gotten her away from Deri.” Not to mention the possibility of a witch.