“Tate’s a smart man. He won’t be back for an hour.” Something glimmered in his eyes. Something foreign, but fascinating. And within her, that tendril of warmth curled further upward. “I will find a way to set you free, Victoria Monroe. I swear I will.”
Of all the words she’d ever heard, these she believed.
At the very least, they became a lifeline she grabbed on to, her first glimmer of hope since she’d been sold, all those years ago.
So she let Lucas kiss her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before, his lips soft and questing, the pressure gentle. He kissed her over and over again, until the hollow place inside her filled in and she felt close to being whole again. Brushing a thumb down his chin, she held him there for a moment. “I only have hours, Luc. Hours. We should be figuring a way into that building.”
Huffing out a laugh, he rolled her onto her back. “When Tate gets back, we’ll figure out how to get into Devlin’s office and get that book. Until then, we’re right where we should be.” Dipping his head, he took her mouth again, his tongue slipping in, brushing against her own, his hand following her ribcage, cupping her breast.
Her skin felt hot as he traced her body, as if he left a trail of embers behind. Being with Lucas kindled a fire inside her, one that even her icy water magic couldn’t quench. Not that she wanted to. No, she wanted his hands on her; she wanted his mouth on hers. She wanted all of him.
When his mouth roved down her neck, she tipped her head back to give him better access. He paused when he came to the chain, heavy with tokens. “Can I take this off?” he asked. She nodded, and he lifted it carefully over her head then set it down on the nightstand with a clunk. When he slid his hands beneath her shirt, she raised her arms and let him peel it from her. For the first time ever, she didn’t need to be in control. She didn’t need to disappear within herself, didn’t do anything except feel. Because she felt completely safe with him. She’d never had the opportunity to explore a man’s body before, and she took her time. He was nothing but hard ridges and hollows, velvety skin flecked every so often with raised scars. Signs of a life of violence.
She slid her fingertips slowly up his abdomen, and as she watched, Lucas tipped his head back, a look of complete ecstasy on his face, his eyes—when he finally looked at her—glazed with desire.
“I never knew it could feel like this,” he murmured, and Victoria slid her hands down his chest, feeling his thudding heart beneath her palm. “I never knew what I was missing. Until I met you.”
Tears burned in her eyes, and she dipped her head, pressing a kiss onto the warm hollow between his pecs. “Nor did I,” she whispered, shaken to her core at the emotion that threatened to overtake her.
He greedily nibbled at her earlobe, then carefully skimmed his lips down her neck, soothing the bruises and turning her core molten. Victoria melted into Luc, sagged against his solid strength, let him wrap her in his arms, then lower her to the bed. “I want you tell me when…to stop.” His rough, quiet voice turned her to jelly. “Say the word, and I’ll stop, Vic.”
“No stopping,” she whispered, the words almost guttural.
Her nails were digging into his forearms, her body arched up off the bed, and he took his time tracing her throat, her face, her shoulders. One hand moved to her breast, and his thumb flicked her nipple. A hot ripple of need surged up, adding to the sensations already clouding her brain. She was caught in a storm of sensation she had no wish to escape.
She wanted him.
She wanted Lucas with every fiber of her being. Why never even entered her mind, only how she felt right this minute, and where his fingertips would land next, anticipation coursing like lightning through her. With effort, she opened her eyes and found him staring. Luc’s eyes were like gold-flecked coffee beans, rimmed by dark, curling lashes, glowing in the sun. Victoria saw so much longing there—the same burning emotion she was feeling.
More than anything, she was aware of the connection between them, the kind she’d never felt before, the kind that changed lives. “I want you, Luc. All of you. No matter what comes next.”
As if the words unleashed him, he slanted his mouth over hers. This time, the kiss wasn’t gentle, it was wild, and she wound her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more. But he didn’t do anything except pull back, searching her face once more.
“Vic…are you sure?” His arms were trembling, his breath coming fast, but still…he was giving her time to reconsider, giving her a choice.
“I’m sure. Surer than of anything.”
Gold sparked in his eyes, and he rose. “Then let’s do something with these, shall we?” he teased, licking his way down her belly. A flick of his fingers had her jeans undone, then he slowly stripped them off, his fingers tracing the insides of her thighs as her pants inched slowly down. She was shivering by the time he reached her ankles, then surged off the bed when he pressed his mouth to the place his fingers had just vacated.
There was a thud as his pants hit the floor, and then Luc was braced above her, heat pouring from him, curling around her as he lowered himself until they were skin to skin. Cupping his face between her palms, Victoria searched his eyes. No regret. No evasion. Just pure, unadulterated need, and something else much deeper.
“If we had more time,” he said, then sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, “I’d take all day learning what you like.”
Victoria moaned softly.
“But we don’t.” He kissed her, hard and deep.
“I’ll say it again—I want you, Lucas, no matter what comes next.”
Indeed, she could hardly think as Luc’s mouth crashed down onto hers, restraint gone, no pretense at hiding his need. For a minute, they simply kissed, then she widened her thighs, Lucas bracing himself above her, his arms bulging. He guided himself into her, nudging against her entrance, then sliding in an inch, then two. He felt glorious inside her, a luscious feeling of fullness as her need coiled tighter with her.
He’d dropped his head beside her, and from his harsh breathing, Victoria knew he was holding back. “You feel so good, Luc, so good.” He pulled out slowly, then slid back in, her hips surging to meet him. He found a gentle, slow pace, her hips meeting his, her climax shimmering on the edge of the next…
“Oh God.” Victoria moaned, digging her fingers into his back, her body quaking, her head whirling. Her orgasm was a tsunami that tore through her, not the soft, gentle glow she was familiar with. She hung on to Lucas, as if she might get swept away.
When he roared into her ear, pushing into her one last time, then sank down onto her, she wrapped her arms around his neck, wishing she never had to let him go.
22
An hour with Victoria was like a sip of water to a dying man.
Not nearly enough, and Lucas would have traded his very life for more. Would trade his life, he realized, pulling her closer. Lifting her arm, he fingered one of the shackles. Thin, barely a few millimeters thick, the narrow band appeared almost fragile. “I’m having Tate cut these off you.” The nearly silent tread of feet on the porch a few moments ago told him the shifter was back, outside, waiting.
“You can’t. It will kill me.” There was fear in her words, layered deeper in her eyes. “No one has ever managed to get them off and live through the process.”
“Let’s at least talk to Tate, get his opinion,” he said, hoping the shifter would come up with a solution. Except he’d already said… What had Tate said? “My advice to you? Don’t ever let her take them off.” Which sounded like Victoria had a choice in the matter. It was, at least, worth a shot.
Lucas ran a hand down her side, savoring her fragile strength, the velvet smoothness of her skin, then leaned his face into the curve of her neck. She smelled like the sea, lovely and reckless and wild. “If we can’t get them off, then tell me what to do, Victoria. What can I do to help you get free?”
Because there was no way she was going back to Devlin, no way he’d allow it.
A
cool hand turned him to face her, those eyes storm-cloud dark. “The smart move would be for me to just go back. Shoulder any punishment for allowing you to escape. There’s a good chance I could convince Devlin, or at least the rest of the Circle, that I made a mistake and I regret it. They do need me—or my magic, at least.
“After that…” She shrugged. “I’ve survived worse. Then we bide our time, figure a way to get inside. Maybe there’s something else hidden among Devlin’s library hoard. God, I’ve never seen so many—they were stacked to the ceiling—mostly Circle records, from what I saw. Tons of books on wards and spells…those might turn out to be a goldmine. A few histories, and one huge, ancient thing called Liber de Mundos, or something like that.”
Lucas froze. “What did you say?”
“I don’t know, Liber of Munder or something—it was right beside the Book of Trackers, so I got a decent look at it. But God, it looked old.”
“Liber de Mundos…Book of Worlds,” Lucas whispered against her throat, the words humming through the air around them, as if infused with magic. “It’s Devlin’s most valuable possession. My brother thought…” He braced a hand on her hip and pushed himself upright. “Kieran assumed the book was out of our reach, that Devlin hid it on another world…but if you saw it?” Lucas rummaged on the floor, found his pants and tossed Victoria her shirt, excitement overtaking him.
If they had the book…
They’d control Devlin’s power.
He didn’t pause, so caught up in this new development. “And while you’re right, and Devlin might—I stress the word might—allow you back into the Circle, the thought of you being anywhere near him… Devlin will never put his hands on you again.” Shooting her a tight smile, Lucas yanked on his pants. “Tate got out. I don’t know how, but he escaped. I think it’s about time we ask him.”
Victoria’s incredible eyes were fathomless as she watched him dress. Finally, she whispered, “What if we do, Luc? If I do manage to get free, what then?” She said it as if she’d never considered the possibility. “I’m not sure… I’ve never allowed myself to dream of it. A life. A real life, full of choices and freedom. It’s always seemed like a…fantasy.
“And have you forgotten the woman? The one you were with, in New York?” As soon as she asked, Lucas’s stomach sank. He had. He’d forgotten Alexis completely. Her eyes grew dark as she continued, “The Circle has a long reach. They’ll find us, even in New York. Even Rhiannon won’t be able to protect you; she could become collateral damage. Whatever you’re thinking of doing, whatever plan is in your head, think about what’s at stake. Think about who’s at stake.” Victoria pulled her shirt over her head and slid her jeans on. “Please. This isn’t a simple mission—this is going to war with a powerful, secretive organization. Trust me, they’re more dangerous than you know, and I’m not even privy to the inner working of the Circle, I’m just a bloody Tracker.”
The way she said it…
Lucas crossed to the bed and pulled her against him. “You are not just a Tracker. You are whatever you want to be. And I want to give you the chance to find out what that is.” Her eyes widened as he brushed a kiss across her lips. “Alexis and I… We were just friends. It turned into more over the years. But never more than convenience.”
“Maybe on your side,” Victoria muttered.
“On both sides,” Lucas insisted, wishing the words felt truer. “We’ll find a way to free you,” he promised, praying it was true. “Then we’ll go after that book. It gives us enough leverage that Devlin will be out of our lives forever.”
“We have less than twenty-four hours,” Victoria reminded him.
“Then we’d better talk to Tate.” Winding his fingers through hers, Lucas led her out of the bedroom, down the silent hallway and out onto the porch.
And found his brother waiting.
23
Kieran looked exhausted. Even as he sized them up—his all-seeing gaze roaming from their clasped hands to Vic’s neck, to Luc’s borrowed shirt—his face looked drawn, his pale grey eyes dim. How he’d gotten here, Luc didn’t know, and at that moment, he didn’t much care.
“You’re alive,” Kieran said. And then Luc was crushed up against his twin and all was right in the world. For the first time in so long, he felt…complete. His brother was here, and with Victoria, he’d found something he’d lost. Or been looking for.
On the far end of the porch, perched on the railing, Tate watched the reunion with a guarded look on his face.
“I heard the shot, then you two tumbled through the arch. I had no idea where you’d gone until Tate called me.” Kieran sent Tate a look of gratitude. “I came as fast as I could.” Frowning, Kieran looked Lucas over head to toe. “I see they missed, thank God. I thought for sure…”
“They didn’t.”
Lucas sent Victoria a sharp look, and she snapped her mouth shut.
“Of course they did. Just look at him. He’s fine.” Kieran laughed. “Seriously, I almost had a heart attack when I heard the gunshot.”
“Victoria’s not kidding, Kieran. I was hit, when we were diving through the portal. I would have died, but she healed me. Somehow,” Lucas explained carefully, suddenly not sure how she’d done it nor how much she’d want the two men to know.
“But…you’re fine now.” Kieran looked at Victoria, then shook his head. “Even Berneval couldn’t heal you that quick.”
“I healed him with this.” Victoria pulled the chain from beneath her shirt. It was full of tokens, magical charms, gold and silver and iron, but the one she selected, the one she pulled from the jangling hoard…
“Where did you get that?” Kieran’s voice was hoarse. “How did you get that?”
Lucas looked at his brother. The token was unassuming, made from dark metal, the design simple, with an irregular hole, almost square. Out of all the charms, it was the one that looked the least threatening.
“Like I said before—you have no idea who this girl is.” Tate prowled down the porch, his face inscrutable. “Or what she’s capable of.” Tate offered a faint nod of apology Victoria’s way as he added, “But to be fair…neither does she.”
When he grinned, showing long white canines, Lucas remembered just how dangerous Tate could be. But there was a softness in his eyes as he turned to Victoria. “I’ll tell you this…if you allow me to remove those shackles, you might just find out.”
24
Victoria wasn’t sure who to look at first. Kieran, and his wide stare of surprise, Tate, with his suddenly too-long fangs, or Lucas, whose regard had turned…shrewd.
“So I’m half nymph. What of it?” Sheesh. She was getting tired of defending herself to everyone. Lucas had sprayed fire out of his hands, for heaven’s sake. And Tate looked like he needed a rare steak.
Like, right now.
Tate smiled again, and she retreated a step until she was firmly nestled against Luc’s warmth, suddenly the safest place she could think of being.
“You, my dear, are half nymph. And you are half something else,” Tate said.
“Human,” she told him, from the safety of Luc’s arms.
“No, girl, you are not human. Not even a drop of mortal blood flows in those veins of yours.”
Her ears hollowed out. Her stomach caved in. What did Tate know, anyway? She was half human, her father’s name was Monroe and she’d grown up in a fishing village with no one else around until he’d died and she’d buried him in a grave by the sea. By the time Lucas’s arms encompassed her, she realized she was panting, her heart beating a mile a minute. “You are a liar,” she said. “A filthy, sinking liar.”
Tate didn’t so much as blink. “Well, there’s one way to find out. Let’s get those wristbands off you.”
Suddenly, she wasn’t so sure she wanted them to come off.
“Tell me what I am first.” If the big know-it-all wanted to play games, then she’d call his bluff. “You claim I’m not human? Then tell me what I am, besides water nymph. I was rai
sed by humans, lived with humans my whole life. So if you’re so damn smart, then tell me what I am.”
“Don’t,” Kieran said. And with that single word, Victoria knew. Knew she’d been wrong her whole life.
“You, Victoria, may be half nymph, but your father, your real father, was the sea god Manannan,” Tate said. “It’s the only way you could have gotten that coin, directly from him. A gift from a father to his daughter.”
“Manannan,” Kieran said, “possessed three magical gifts: a cloak of invisibility, a chariot of gold and a coin capable of bestowing life or death. To be wielded by his favorite child, a child of his choosing, a child upon whom he’d bestow his kingdom, once he deemed him or her ready.” Kieran offered her a faint smile. “You aren’t Rhiannon’s niece after all, Victoria—you’re one of the Tuatha. Not a nymph, but a queen.”
“But…that can’t be true. I buried my father, I found him after a storm, and I…” Helplessly, she searched Lucas’s face. “I can’t be this…thing you say I am. I’m just a Tracker. I’m a nobody. I’m…” She would have gone on, protested more, but Lucas stopped her with a kiss.
“You just can’t see what everyone else can,” he said. “What I see.”
This wasn’t possible—some sort of mix-up, perhaps, a case of mistaken identity, or they were grasping at straws. “Here, look, it’s just an old coin. My mother left me this years ago, after a storm. Not my father, my mother. On my pillow one night.” Victoria yanked the chain off, splayed the tokens out, a bright, shiny assortment, the disc in question lying flat and dull in her palm. A brush of her thumb brought the faint sheen of iridescence to the surface, a greenish tint, the sparkle of scale, or the sun off waves. “And I’ve had it around my neck for years. It’s never done a thing.”
“Yet you used it to save my brother,” Kieran said. “How?”
She shrugged, trying to remember exactly what she’d done. It had been dark, she’d been scared and Luc had been dying. “I’m not sure, exactly. I just knew I had to do something. Blood is nothing but water. And I can…control it, sometimes. So I made him heal. Made his body do what I commanded.” She shrugged. “And it did.”
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