by Bast, Anya
Yet apparently that desire didn’t extend to her.
She picked up another of the books he’d been thumbing through. It was open and facedown on the table, which made her wince. This one was Adventures of Sinbad … written in Arabic. Her head came up abruptly and she stared at the door Broder had just exited through.
There were so many mysteries about this man she wanted answered.
Book in hand, she followed him out of the library and into the living room.
Broder stood in the half-darkened living room, staring into the fire. She stepped into the room, drawn to him even though she’d promised herself she’d stay away … especially when they were alone.
She peered into the flickering flames. “What are you looking at?”
He shifted, locking his gaze on her. “Nothing. I’m thinking.”
The tone of his voice warned her not to inquire further. She took another step into the room and lifted the book. “Arabic, Broder?”
He moved toward her, his muscles rolling in that animalistic way that both repelled and excited her. “I can’t fuck. I can’t get drunk.” He shrugged. “I read. I collect books. I learn languages. I restore old motorcycles and cars because I love them. I do these things so I don’t go insane.”
And in those short, succinct seven sentences, she learned more about Broder Calderson than she had since she’d met him.
She thought about the cherry red ’66 Pontiac GTO they’d driven over from the airport and the classic Harley he’d been on when they first met. She’d caught a glimpse of another obviously older bike in the garage by the keep as well. So, he’d restored those. He hadn’t mentioned that before.
“How many languages do you speak?” she asked.
“Fifteen.” He said it like it was nothing, and perhaps for a man who’d lived as long he had, it really was nothing.
Suddenly Jessa felt a driving need to sit down. His level of attractiveness had just shot into the stratosphere. He was as strong as a bull and smart, too. He’d just hit all her buttons in a few short sentences. She coughed and cleared her throat. “That’s really impressive.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Not really.”
She lingered for a moment, out of things to say but happy they were back on friendly terms. She did have to live with the man after all. “I was a lit major in college. Before Margaret died, I was in grad school.”
“I know. You want to be a teacher, right? College professor, specifically.”
She nodded. “Did you do a background check on me?”
“Of course I did. I need to know everything about you in order to better protect you. I know all of your employment and school history. I’m missing the personal stuff. Share it with me sometime, okay?” He spoke gruffly and wouldn’t look at her, leaving her unsure if he was asking to know about her to actually get to know her, or if he was asking for details so he could better protect her.
A part of her desperately hoped it was the former.
“Sure.” Hugging herself, she nodded, smiled, and murmured, “Good night,” then headed out of the room.
“Jessa.”
She stilled. He was close. Way closer than he’d been a moment before. She turned and he was right there, close enough to touch. Her heartbeat did the mamba for a second. “Yes?”
He reached out and touched a tendril of her hair. Arousal flared sharply within her. It was amazing how his slightest touch could do that to her. His pupils exploded big and dark. His jaw tightened.
Jessa knew right then she was in trouble.
He wrapped the tendril of hair around his finger as he stepped closer to her. Now she could feel his body heat, catch the faint scent of his cologne and the teasing, subtle aroma of his leather duster.
He snaked his arm around her waist and dragged her up against his chest. “You are mine, Jessa. Stop fighting me. Stop giving me mixed signals.” His lips skated over the curve of her jaw and arousal tightened every nerve in her body.
Her eyes fluttered shut and she contemplated giving in. Just this once. His every touch battered at her defenses and she was tired of being strong. He skated his palm over her breast and her nipples peaked against the tight fabric of her sports bra. His mouth found hers and closed over it, giving a groan as if she tasted good.
Her tongue found his and tangled in a hungry back-and-forth as his hand slid over her ass and pressed her against him, forcing his massive erection into her abdomen. The scent of him filled her senses and an image of him driving deep inside her flitted through her mind.
Just once….
He grabbed the hem of her workout pants and yanked down.
Her eyes flew open. She couldn’t do this again. She couldn’t give in. Memories of Brandon flooded her mind. Denying a man who’d gone this long without sex was a little cruel, maybe, but she couldn’t have her heart broken by a meaningless fling again. She couldn’t lay all her emotions out on a platter to be destroyed.
“No,” she whispered. “Stop. I’m sorry, but … stop.”
The muscles in Broder’s body tightened, but he slid his hand down the curve of her bare behind anyway, skirting between her thighs to rasp over her sex. She sucked in a breath against the wave of need that followed his touch. If he went any further, she would totally lose herself to him—body and maybe soul. She couldn’t let that happen. Somewhere deep inside her she sensed that this man had the ability to destroy her in a way Brandon would never have been capable of.
And Brandon had hurt enough.
“Broder, stop.”
He nuzzled her throat and made her shiver. Rage and fear surged through her. If he wanted to take what he wanted from her, she had no choice but to surrender.
And that pissed her off.
“I said, stop!” She gave him a hard elbow to the appendix.
He grunted and backed away, though she suspected she’d barely wounded him. She turned and bolted from the room, straight out the front door and into the courtyard beyond. Above her night had fallen and the cool air kissed the bare skin of her midriff.
Hugging herself, she walked toward the gates. She wanted to get past them, run a million miles away from here. She knew that would be a stupid move. Beyond those gates were the Blight, just waiting for her to make a misstep so they could separate her soul from her body. She imagined them all out there like a pride of lions ready to pounce. She wasn’t sure she could run fast enough.
She stopped right in front of the gates and stared out into the darkness. Sensing a presence behind her, she stiffened.
“Don’t do it,” came Broder’s deep voice.
“I’m not an idiot. I’m only wishing I could.”
He said nothing; he only stood there, a strong, enticing, protective force at her back. Too bad she wasn’t sure which danger was more threatening—the one in front of her …
Or the one behind her.
Roan watched Erik Halvorson climb into his rental car at the airport. Muscles rolling, the huge man sat behind the wheel, making the large vehicle look small.
“Och, he’s a big one,” whispered Molly, who sat behind him on his motorcycle. “Even bigger than you.”
“All the Brotherhood are built like him. That’s why we have to handle this delicately.” Molly was a young witch, but her powers in the arts of sjónhverfing, deceiving of the sight, were strong. The SUV pulled away from the curb and Roan followed him on his motorcycle, at a distance.
What he was about to do would break the fragile alliance between the Brotherhood and the seidhr, but Thorgest had made it clear that he wanted his great-granddaughter at all costs.
He followed Erik out of the airport and up north, keeping well behind him and out of his line of sight. He knew where he was headed, of course. A casting of the runes had told him of Erik’s arrival at Broder Calderson’s estate.
And that was just about perfect.
Once they’d made their way into the countryside, Roan made his move. On a lonely stretch of highway, he edged closer to Erik’
s vehicle and signaled for Molly to begin spell casting. It didn’t take long for Erik’s SUV to begin to cross the middle line, the vehicle swaying from side to side as the huge man became lost in a tangled web of illusion. The members of the Brotherhood were immortal and strong as fuck, but they were not immune to all forms of magick.
The SUV pulled off to the side and Erik stumbled out, leaving the door open and looking dazed. Roan pulled the bike up behind the SUV, but the big guy didn’t even see or hear it. It was disarming to realize just how easily someone like Erik Halvorson could be undone with a little mental sleight of hand. It made him proud.
Molly climbed off the bike and went toward him, concentration clear on her face. She was a powerful witch, one of the best they had, but it took a lot of effort to snag someone in an illusion this big.
She crooned at Erik, leading him over to sit on a nearby slope of a hill, smoothing her short black skirt over her black-and-white-striped tights. With her half-black, half-blond hair and her shiny black platform boots, she looked more than a little out of place on the green grass.
Roan walked toward them, then leaned over and plucked a long, sandy-colored hair from Erik’s head. Erik hardly moved at all. If the brother had had his senses, Roan was pretty sure his own head would be detached from his shoulders right now.
Roan tucked the hair into the pocket of his jeans. He would need that to work his next bit of shamanistic magick. Shape-shifting.
Nodding at Molly, Roan went for the vehicle. Erik had left it running. How convenient. Before he slid behind the wheel, he glanced at Molly, noticing how she’d cozied up next to Erik. “You’ll be all right while I’m gone?” The last thing Molly needed was to have Erik come out of the spell and discover he’d been duped. That would not go well for her.
Molly waved a hand at him. “G’wan, I’ll be fine. In fact … take your time.” She gave a pointed leer at Erik.
Roan started to climb into the SUV, then hesitated. “Don’t do anything you shouldn’t do, Molly.” He paused. “With him.”
Molly tried to look shocked, but it fell a little short. “Are you suggesting I might take advantage of the situation?”
“Yes.” He gave her a stern look. “Don’t.”
She sighed and tossed her hair. “As much as this incredible slab of manhood entices me, I don’t need to resort to tricks to attract a man.”
He believed her. She was beautiful, even with the odd dress she so often chose. Roan nodded. “All the same, be good.”
She gave him an angelic smile that he didn’t quite believe. “Always.”
Roan eased into the car and drove north, toward Broder’s estate.
Time for part two of this act. Time to try to get Thorgest’s great-granddaughter away from Broder without causing a war between the clans.
ELEVEN
Broder opened the door to find Erik on the other side. He nodded. “Brother.”
“I hate planes,” Erik grumbled.
Most of the Brotherhood did. He moved aside and allowed Erik to pass into the foyer, then led Erik into the living room, trying to hide his resentment of the fact that Erik had come. He was perfectly capable of protecting Jessa on his own and hated the implication he might need help. Yet Erik had called him the day before and told him he’d be arriving to provide backup and support. The fact that the seidhr were involved complicated everything and made the situation delicate. Broder could handle delicate.
He winced, thinking of a couple times he hadn’t done so well with sensitive political issues. Okay, maybe delicacy wasn’t one of his strong points.
Erik turned in the middle of the room. “Where’s the woman?”
“Jessa is training with Halla. Do you want something to eat or drink?”
Giving his head a sharp shake, he paced to the bookshelves. Broder wondered what was wrong. Erik never failed to ask for whiskey. The fact they couldn’t get drunk never seemed to stop them from trying. “Did you contact the seidhr yet?”
“No.” Broder frowned. “We talked about that back in D.C. Remember? I’m not going to contact them until I find out what’s up with her. With the Blight targeting her so hard, the last thing we need is the seidhr after her, too.”
“Right.” Erik glanced at him and nodded. “A good plan.” Except he said it like he wasn’t totally sure it was.
“Broder, I need—” Jessa breezed into the room wearing a pair of tight-fitting workout pants and a halter top. “Oh, hi, Erik. What are you doing here?”
Erik turned at the sound of her voice and went completely still. He gazed at Jessa as if he’d never seen her before … and as if he liked what he saw. He looked at her as if she were something good to eat.
Every protective and possessive fiber in Broder’s body went on alert. Loki hadn’t constrained Erik’s ability to be with women the way he’d constrained Broder’s. Erik could have any woman he wanted.
He wasn’t getting Jessa.
Broder swallowed the animal-like growl rising from the back of his throat. Erik might be head of the Brotherhood, but that wouldn’t stop him from ramming Erik through a wall if he made any move in her direction.
“I’m here to back up Broder,” Erik answered. “When the Blight want someone they go to incredible ends to get them. He might need help.”
Jessa gave Broder a long look that made him go warm. “I don’t think Broder needs backup.”
“I’m also here to take you to the seidhr.”
“What?” Broder boomed out. “The hell you’re taking Jessa to them.”
Erik tore his hungry gaze away from Jessa and focused it on him, narrowing his eyes at Broder with a violent intensity. “They want her back. It’s time.”
“I won’t do anything that endangers Jessamine. I won’t let you endanger her, either.”
“I am the leader of the Brotherhood. I make the decisions. I’m not asking for your permission.”
Broder snapped his jaw shut, but it wasn’t because he was backing down; it was because he was surprised. In all the centuries he’d known Erik, he’d never once known the man to use his position as leverage. Erik had never needed to—his very presence was leverage. He appeared and men fell in line.
Erik addressed Jessa, who was looking between Broder and Erik and chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. “Don’t you want to know your people? Train your magick?”
She took a moment to answer. “Of course I do.” Her gaze traveled over Broder. “But, frankly, I trust him and … well, I don’t trust you.”
Broder blinked. She trusted him? Even after all those times he’d tried to get her into his bed?
“Sorry.” She winced, glancing at Erik. “But if Broder thinks we should wait until we know more, then I want to wait.”
A muscle worked in Erik’s jaw. “All right. I see I have to win your faith.”
Jessa lingered in the doorway, watching Erik carefully. She didn’t respond. That meant yes.
“I need to get my bag out of the rental car,” said Erik. “Will you come with me, Jessa? I want to talk to you.” He gave Broder a pointed look. “Alone.” He strode out of the room toward the front door.
Jessa met Broder’s eyes for a long moment before going after Erik.
Broder watched her leave, a tingle at the base of his spine. There was something off about Erik today, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
Jessa followed Erik out of the house and to his rented SUV. Ever since she’d first walked into the living room and seen the man, he’d been setting the hair on the nape of her neck on end. Something about him made her uneasy. It was strange. She hadn’t had this reaction to him back in D.C. He’d intimidated her with his strength and size, with his mere presence, but he hadn’t creeped her out.
Erik looked the same as he had back in the States, though he wore a pair of jeans and a sweater now, instead of jeans and a T-shirt, and appeared more relaxed than he had at the house in D.C. He acted the same—commanding, overbearing, and forbidding. Just like Broder. Ju
st like all the men of the Brotherhood, she was beginning to suspect.
So why was the man setting off her spidey sense?
There was definitely something odd going on, but maybe it was just her emotional state. Maybe she was just disturbed by the fact that she’d needed to go into hiding from deadly supernatural forces. That was enough to put anyone on edge, right?
“I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do,” said Erik, falling into step beside her. “But I don’t understand your unwillingness to join your people.”
She stopped walking. Erik halted by the side of the fountain and turned toward her. “I think Broder makes a good point, Erik. We have no idea why I was separated from them in the first place. They could mean me harm.”