Visions of Chains

by Regan Hastings

  He pointed and she nodded because she didn’t trust herself to speak again. Throughout all of the turmoil of the last couple of days, one thing had been clear to her, despite her fear and confusion. She, Deidre Sterling, was important to Finn. He needed her. And that, more than anything, had held her together in spite of everything.

  But he didn’t want her. He wanted the mystical Mate he had to have to complete his mission. The familiar sense of being used was enough to coat the sexual heat inside her with a skim of ice. She couldn’t be around him right now and she felt like death warmed over anyway.

  She walked away from him, but she felt his gaze on her every moment. His power reached across the room to her as surely as a caress. Deidre shivered and headed toward the doorway like a sleepwalker. Every muscle and bone ached with fatigue—but worse, she felt a sense of . . . loss.

  All right, he’d handled that well.

  Finn bit off a curse and rummaged through the freezer one-handed as he listened to the phone ringing in Haven on the other side of the world.

  “Finn. Did you get your witch?”

  “Yeah, Rune, I got her.” He scowled at the frozen lasagna. Then he took it from the freezer and set it on the black granite kitchen counter. Closing the freezer with a bump from his hip, he caught the phone between his ear and shoulder and worked the cover off of dinner while he talked. “She’s safe. Probably thinks I’m a dangerous lunatic, but what the hell, right?”

  Rune snorted. “Wait’ll she gets to know you.”

  “Yeah, that could be a problem.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What isn’t? Some demon sent a hellhound after Deidre.”

  “What?”

  “Hellhound. Demon charmed.” Just saying it made him want to find the damn hound and wring its neck personally. Oh, and then hunt down whatever demon handled the charm and do the same to it. Instead, he reminded himself, he was nuking frozen noodles. “Damn thing went right through the wall of the tunnel after I threw a dagger into its chest.”

  “Son of a bitch. They’re upping the stakes.”

  “That about covers it.” He read the directions on the carton, punched in the right numbers on the microwave, then stuffed dinner inside. He closed the door, hit start and listened to the machine hum. Leaning back against the counter, he rubbed one hand over his short hair and said, “I brought her to the cabin so we could talk.”

  “And?”

  “I told her everything. It didn’t go well.”

  “Screw talk,” Rune blurted. “Get the damn Mating started and find your Artifact before that demon gets even more creative.”

  “Wow, great idea.” Finn pulled the phone from his ear long enough to frown at it. “Easy enough to sit on the sidelines offering advice when your tour of duty’s already done.”

  “Hey, Teresa and I had to face all kinds of crap.”

  Finn snorted a laugh. “Yeah, a demon bird. Put that up next to a hellhound, I dare you.”

  “Whatever,” Rune muttered.

  “Look, I know what I have to do. Just wanted you guys to know that hellhounds have been added to the party.”

  “And the fun just keeps coming. I’ll let Torin know. You need our help?”

  “No.” Finn pushed away from the counter, stalked across the kitchen and stared out at the brightening sky beyond the cabin. Long ago, he’d cleared a circumference a hundred yards wide all around the structure so no one could sneak up on him unaware. But beyond that perimeter, an ancient forest stood silent as sentinels. “I’ve got it covered. But you should know I had a traitor in my crew, too.”

  “Been a helluva night for you, hasn’t it?”

  “Couple nights,” Finn corrected. “And yeah. He’s dead, by the way, and I don’t think he was able to contact anyone else. BOW planted him, but he got dead before he could be of use to them.”

  There was more, of course. Like for example the ambush at the jailhouse. There was no way Tony could have alerted the authorities about their planned raid. So someone else had. Which meant, there was still a traitor in Finn’s happy little band of rebels.

  Until he discovered exactly who it was, he wasn’t letting Deidre out of his sight.

  Rune laughed a little. “Glad to hear it. Keep your witch safe and find that damn Artifact.”

  “I will.”

  “Oh, damn,” Rune said suddenly. “With all your goings on, I totally forgot our big news. We think we’ve got a lead on Egan.”

  Finn stiffened, shoulders going rigid, spine straight enough to snap. Egan. The Eternal betrayed by his Mate. Lost to them until now. “How?”

  “Mairi, Shea and Teresa worked a locator spell. They’re going to give it another shot to try to narrow down the search parameters.”

  Everything in Finn wanted to go to Haven. Help his brothers to find Egan. But he couldn’t. He was as trapped here as Deidre was. For the next thirty days, they were both locked into an ancient quest with no way out but success. Because failure was unacceptable.

  Nodding, he clutched the phone tighter. “Good to hear. Find him, Rune.”

  “That’s the plan. Don’t worry about it. You just take care of your part in all this.”

  “Nag, nag . . .”

  He hung up and continued to stare out at the growing daylight. His mind worked, chewing through Rune’s news—Egan had been missing for a damn long time and Finn couldn’t even imagine what he’d been through. To be trapped at the bottom of the sea, locked into a cage, unable to help himself?

  A sympathetic wave of fury rushed up inside him. Hell, even if they got Egan out, there was no guarantee he’d be in any shape to complete his share of this damn mess. Especially since he’d have to trust the bitch who’d locked him up to do it.

  Shaking his head, he refocused on the problems facing him at the moment. Finn hadn’t said anything to Deidre about the very real possibility of another traitor. He’d figured she had enough to deal with. But the facts were plain. Either that setup at the jailhouse had just been the feds being paranoid—or someone had tipped them off. And if that was the case, then the traitor was still part of Finn’s crew.

  But who?

  Seriously, this was exactly why he’d steered clear of humanity for centuries. They were too easily swayed by their own passions—lust, greed, revenge, power. Hell, Tony had killed Nora just so he could capture Deidre and get a damn promotion. Who the hell knew what really drove humans? But even as his disgust with the whole damn race of them thickened inside him, he remembered Joe. And Shauna. And Marco and a couple of the others. He didn’t believe for a second that any one of them would turn on him and the cause they risked so much for.

  So he wasn’t going to condemn the whole bunch for the actions of a few. Though it would have made his life easier if he could. Because Finn wouldn’t hesitate to slaughter traitors to protect Deidre.

  Chapter 19

  Scowling, he pushed those thoughts aside even though thinking about traitors was a hell of a lot better than imagining Deidre in the shower. She’d been delighted with the granite and glass bathroom, and surprised with all of the luxury touches he had installed in the cabin over the years.

  In his mind’s eye, he could see her, naked under the three showerheads, slicking her blond hair back from her face, beads of water rolling in rivulets down her sleek body. Then he imagined her soapy hands, sliding over her skin—across her breasts, between her thighs.

  “Damn it.” His dick was hard enough to pound nails.

  “What’s wrong now?”

  He whirled around, caught off guard for the first time in— Hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone had sneaked up on him. Deidre stood in the open doorway, wearing the clothes she’d had on for days. Her blond hair was still damp from her shower though she’d towel dried it enough that
waves and ripples were already beginning to show themselves. He realized that until now, he’d only seen her hair in the braid she seemed to prefer. He liked it loose better.

  “What’s wrong now?” she repeated.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head, dismissing her concern. Damned if he would admit that he’d been so busy picturing her in the shower he hadn’t even heard the water shut off. “Dinner’ll be ready in a minute.”

  She glanced at the microwave, then looked back to him. “Okay then, that gives us time to talk.”

  “Fine. I’m sure you’ve got tons of questions—”

  “No,” she said stiffly. “What I meant was, I talk, you listen. You told me what you need from me. Well, here’s what I need. I have to see my mother.”

  “We’ve been through this.”

  “And if you say no,” she went on without skipping a beat, “then you get nothing from me. No Mating. No Artifact. Nothing.”

  What the hell? While he was imagining her naked and willing, she was planning a revolt? He gave her a stony stare, one that had intimidated warriors, enemies and demons over the eons. Deidre didn’t even blink. Her blue eyes met his and there wasn’t so much as a whisper of retreat in them.

  She was drawing a line in the proverbial sand.

  “Are you serious? Were you not around earlier? Traitors? Hellhounds? Demon threats and federal agencies on your luscious tail? Did you miss all of that?”

  She folded her arms across her chest, unconsciously pushing her boobs higher—or was that a deliberate move to distract him? Well, it was working. His gaze dropped briefly to the swell of those breasts that he wanted his hands on so badly. But a second or two was all the indulgence he allowed himself. Then it was back to meeting her determined gaze.

  “I didn’t miss a thing,” she told him and if there was a quaver in her voice, it was a slight one. “I know exactly what’s going on.”

  “So in response, you lean to blackmail.”

  “I prefer the word ‘deal,’” she said and walked across the room to take a seat at the small table beneath a bay window.

  Morning light slid through the glass to lie across her hair and face like a golden caress. She looked more goddess than witch at the moment and that was just more of a distraction for him when he least needed it.

  “Look, Finn, I’ve had a lot thrown at me over the last few days. And according to you there’s lots more coming.”

  He watched her from across the room because he didn’t entirely trust himself to get closer. He was on the edge right now. Every instinct he possessed urged him to start the Mating. His dick was hollering at him to get a move on.

  But when he looked at her delicate features and read only firm resolve, it was enough to make him pause.

  Her gaze locked with his and she lifted her chin. “You’re the one who said I’m indispensable on this . . . mission. Well, since I’ve got the golden ticket, I’m cashing it in.”

  A part of him admired her for this maneuver. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted and went after it. But it wasn’t his job to placate her. It was his job to keep her alive.

  “Deidre—”

  “I’ll settle for a damn phone call, Finn,” she said and silently dared him to refuse.

  Her blue eyes were fired with so many emotions he couldn’t read them all. But front and center was her determination and that was a hard thing to ignore. And even harder to combat.

  As if she sensed that she was getting to him, she gave it another push. “I have to talk to her,” she insisted. “At least let her know I’m alive.”

  Finn scraped both hands over his face and up and across the top of his head. He had a feeling he was going to regret this.

  “She can’t know what you are,” he warned, narrowing his gaze on her. “Or, where you are.”

  “Hell, even I don’t know where I am,” she said on a choked laugh. Then she shook her head. “As for telling her I’m a witch? I’m not an idiot, Finn. I won’t do that. Won’t endanger her or her presidency. I saw that BOW agent when he looked at me like I was the winning lottery ticket,” she said wryly. “No, she can’t know. Not yet, anyway.”

  Her hands moved up and down her arms briskly as if she were fighting off a chill. Since the room wasn’t the least bit cool, Finn knew this was a deeper cold seeping through her. In the last three days, Deidre had seen her world collapse around her. She’d been betrayed by a friend, discovered she was a witch and watched Finn execute a traitor. She’d been dragged through tunnels, shot at and chased by a hellhound.

  Not hard to understand that shock was finally setting in. But he had to give her points for how she was handling this. Most humans he had known would have been curled up in the fetal position on the floor, whimpering for their mommies. Not his witch.

  Deidre dug deep and found strength she probably hadn’t even been aware of until now. Hell, she’d even blackmailed him—and done a fine job of it, too.

  He blew out a breath as he watched her, his mind racing. Truth was, he didn’t want her having anything to do with her old life. As her powers grew and the Mating progressed, she would have less and less in common with the life she had known. Her priorities would change. She would form new loyalties. And being involved with humans could only complicate an already complicated situation.

  But could he really expect her to turn her back on her only family? Hell, his heart might not be beating, but he did have one. And only a real prick would be able to look into Deidre’s blue eyes, shadowed with fatigue and fear and suspicion, and still say no.

  Decision made, he walked across the room and dropped into the chair opposite her. Her shoulders squared and her spine went ramrod stiff. She was prepared to fight him on this. She’d already made that clear. So why not throw her a curve and agree?

  “One phone call,” he said. “But I’m with you when you make it.”

  Her pleased smile fell away. “Don’t trust me?”

  One eyebrow went up. “Do you trust me?”

  She took a breath and sighing, considered him. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Fair answer.” And a pisser as well. He needed her to trust him, but he couldn’t just demand it. He’d have to earn it. Again. As he had for centuries. Irritation sparked but he pushed it away since it wouldn’t do him any damn good.

  A cold November wind buffeted the windows and made them rattle. Inside, the whirr of the microwave was the only sound for several long seconds.

  “Call your mother.” Finn handed over the phone.

  Deidre took it fast, her fingers closed tightly around the cell, half afraid that he might try to snatch it back. But Finn didn’t move. He just sat there, watching her. She knew too much about him now to be comfortable under that direct gaze. Too many memories were filling her mind. And in all of them he played a starring role.

  God, this was a mess.

  She looked down at the phone, turned it on and punched in a number she knew by heart. She really wished her mother had a cell phone, but her aides insisted it was too dangerous in these unsettled times—they were too easy to hack into and Cora’s enemies were always looking for ammunition to use against her. Deidre cringed at the thought of what they could do with the knowledge that the president’s daughter was a witch.

  The phone rang only once and the White House operator answered.

  “Hello,” Deidre said quietly. “This is Snowflake. I need to speak to Saber.”

  A slight inhalation of breath was the only sign of the operator’s surprise. Using the code names the Secret Service had given them had ensured that Deidre would be put through as quickly as possible.

  “One moment,” the operator said.

  She half turned in her chair—more to avoid looking at Finn than for any urge to look at the scenery. Though with the first rays of the sun streaking the f
resh snow in golden light, she did feel the tightness in her chest loosening up just a little.

  Deidre tugged at the ends of her hair, wrapping the strands around her index finger in a habit that hadn’t ended until she had started wearing a braid.

  “Deidre?” Her mother’s voice came over the line suddenly. “Is it really you?”

  “Yes, Mom,” she assured her. “It’s me.”

  “My God, where are you? Are you safe? Are you alone? What’s happening, Dee?”

  Guilt and grief erupted inside her and Deidre had to fight back a rush of tears that blurred her vision and turned the view outside into a hazy, impressionistic painting. “I’m fine. Really. I’m sorry you were worried . . .”

  “Worried? I’ve been frantic.” There was a long pause and Deidre knew that her mother was pacing the confines of the Oval Office. She always walked when she talked, as if she simply had too much energy to remain still for long.

  A rush of static filled the phone briefly, then disappeared. “You can’t trace the call, Mom,” she said. “Satellite phone.”

  Finn frowned at her and she shrugged. Not her fault her mother’s team would instantly try to set up a trace.

  “Then tell me where you are! Your Secret Service detail has been scouring the city for you. Dante’s team has been working round the clock.”

  “Oh, God. Tell Dante I’m sorry I left that way—”

  “How did you leave? They had the building covered and there were no other exits.”

  “I can’t tell you how.”

  Her mother muttered something very unpresidential. “It seems you can’t tell me much. Did you know your friend Shauna is missing, too?”

  “Yes,” Deidre said. “She’s here with me.”

  “Deidre, don’t lie to me. Is this about the RFW? Are you and Shauna in some kind of trouble?”

  Oh, if she only knew. “Mom—”

  “Deidre, you can’t expect me to simply let it go.”

  “You have to. For both our sakes, you have to.” She risked a glance at Finn’s steely expression. “I don’t have a lot of time, Mom.”