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Cursed

Page 12

by Nancy Corrigan


  Tegan curled her fingers and fought the urge to curse the Triad for forcing her hand. It would do no good. After a millennium in which she begged the deity for help, she’d learned her wants didn’t matter. She shoved the thoughts aside. One day at a time. Her decision still stood. She would guard Ian’s secret while she figured out her feelings and his. She refused to mate Ian for the wrong reasons. Only love would convince her to form the eternal bond.

  But Ian said he loved her.

  She pivoted and stormed from the room. He was waiting for her. She had no idea what she’d do when she saw him, but the urge to wrap herself around him and never let him go wouldn’t be denied. Was that love? She didn’t know, but for both their sakes, she needed to find out.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ian spread the map of New York on the kitchen counter. Pencil marks showed the locations where suspicious deaths had occurred that matched sluagh kills—a single slash to a major artery. He added a red dot to the ones that listed bruising and signs of a struggle. Blue dots highlighted the deaths where multiple wounds suggested several sluaghs had fed from the victim. And green highlighted the deaths he suspected a redcap might’ve made.

  All in all, seventy-eight incidents were captured on the paper. He swept his gaze over the map. Six months’ worth of tragedies stared back at him. He fought the accompanying anger over the situation he’d been helpless to stop before becoming a rider of the Wild Hunt.

  For a decade, he’d studied dozens of redcaps’ behavior patterns, catalogued every damn nuance he’d learned of them, and tracked their crimes. It had done little good. He hadn’t been able to prevent any of their murders or capture a single redcap. More often than not, he’d stood on the sidelines and watched the cops struggle with an investigation they had no hope of solving.

  So many times he’d been tempted to hand over all the data he’d amassed. Common sense had stopped him. He couldn’t tell the investigators that the killer they sought was a redcap or one of its puppets. The police would send him to a shrink. Worse than that, they’d cut him out of the loop he’d built over the years. If he hadn’t nurtured the many friendships within the police departments across the world because of his security work with the government, he wouldn’t have collected the details of the slaughters marked on the map before him.

  The redcaps had grown bolder and more vicious in the past year. He had no doubt they’d triple their reign of terror in the coming months. With the Huntsmen’s release, they’d want to build an army in preparation for the inevitable battles. At the moment, Dar had the advantage. Raul’s brothers were invisible to the Hunt. They needed to die. If Ian had any say in it, Craig’s heart would be the first to be cut out.

  The kitchen door opened. Rowan walked in wearing a pair of skintight leather pants and a midriff, low-cut top. Tall, thin, with a chest that begged for a man to pillow his head on her softness—she was gorgeous. Her black hair hung in a wild mess around her head, and bold makeup drew attention to her large green eyes and plump mouth. Fingerless leather gloves covered her delicate hands. She popped a lollipop out of her mouth and flashed him a smile.

  His cock hardened instantly.

  “Hey, human, have you seen Tegan?”

  Ian gripped the edge of the counter and fought the surge of lust he had no business feeling. Tegan was the woman he wanted. He didn’t question his desire for her or his love. It had grown in the years they visited each other. Every caress and kiss they shared had told him all the things he needed to know about her.

  Heart and soul, he knew Tegan was his mate, whether they were joined yet or not. The rightness of their bond was as solid and true as anything he’d ever known. He wanted to fall asleep in her arms and wake up next to her for an eternity. No other woman would make him feel the same way, whether she was a walking wet dream or not.

  His damn dick didn’t share the same resolve. Rowan’s body would cushion his thrusts just as well as Tegan’s did. The hungry beast inside fed him that knowledge. It didn’t care whose wet muscles milked him. It only cared about pulling an orgasm from the one he fucked. It was hungry.

  Well, Ian fucking hated it and himself. He didn’t want to desire Rowan, but the urge to bend her over the table and yank her pants down grew by the second. His cock throbbed at the image. He hung his head and dragged in a deep breath. It didn’t help. She freaking smelled like Tegan too.

  Sweet vanilla.

  If he didn’t look at her or touch her too-thin body, he could pretend she was the woman he loved, at least long enough to spill his seed inside her.

  What the fuck was he thinking? He’d waited too damn long for Tegan. He wasn’t about to ruin their future by banging her sister. If he could get his dick to cooperate, he’d be in good shape. Unfortunately, his cock wouldn’t be pacified.

  Soft fingers touched his arm. He groaned.

  “Are you okay?”

  The concern in Rowan’s voice drove a knife into his heart. What would she think if she knew he wanted to bury his face into her slick folds and tongue her clit? Goddammit, what would Tegan say? She’d tell him to screw himself and walk away. Not happening. He wouldn’t lose the woman he loved.

  He nodded.

  Rowan grasped his chin and tried to turn his head. He locked his muscles. “You don’t seem good.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She dropped her hand. “Are you sure? You look like you’re in pain.”

  He was. His balls had turned into hard rocks. He stepped closer to the cabinet to hide the rigid length of his throbbing dick. “Tegan went back to Hell to talk to Arawn.”

  “Why?” Panic laced her voice.

  “We need information from him about how to get someone out of the fairy realm.” He narrowed his gaze. “Is there a reason she shouldn’t have gone?”

  Rowan blinked, and the fear stamped on her features faded. “I suppose not. She’s a big girl. Tough. She can handle anyone.”

  “Who would she have to worry about?” Because he’d hunt them down and make them bleed for threatening her.

  Rowan propped her elbows on the counter and grinned at him. “How cute. My big sister found herself a protector. But are you a worthy one?”

  “Yes. I’ll protect her anyway I can.”

  She leaned closer. Her shirt gaped and gave him a perfect view of her ample cleavage. His mouth watered. “You know she’s deadly, right? She might look like a curvy little sex demon, but when she embraces her darker side, she’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  He suspected as much. It didn’t change his desire to protect her. “Answer my question.”

  “I did. Tegan can handle herself. Don’t worry about her. Now”—she motioned to the map with a wiggle of her fingers—“what do you have here?”

  Glad they were talking about something that kept his mind off sex, he mimicked her pose, elbows on the countertop, and tapped the paper. “These are all the fairy-caused murders that have occurred in the state over the past six months.”

  Her nose scrunched, and her brows pinched. She rounded the counter and wiggled in front of him. His limbs trembled, but he couldn’t make himself back away. He locked his elbows and knees, best he could do when her warmth literally called him closer. Only his feelings for Tegan stopped him from pressing his erection against Rowan’s tight ass.

  She folded her forearms on the surface. Her bottom rose with the move and brushed against his thigh. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop his moan from escaping.

  The woman was trying to kill him. It was the only explanation. Or maybe test him. See if he was worthy, like she’d said. Yeah, that was more like it. She looked far from naïve. He’d probably been drooling when she first walked into the kitchen.

  She pointed to a heavy cluster of dots. Her hand brushed his, and lust shot right to his balls, squeezing them incredibly more. “Damn leeches. I hate them. They used to target villages, get the humans incensed and watch them fight among themselves, killing innocents.”

  Her voice crac
ked. He literally felt her pain radiate through him. A consequence of his godly ties to Minerva? Or simply his connection to all the Huntsmen? Whichever clued him in to her agony, he couldn’t resist the compulsion to comfort her. He had the sense he could ease it, maybe take her heartache into himself. The knowledge of how hovered in the back of his mind. He couldn’t focus on it with the lust making his thoughts hazy.

  “Personal experience?” he asked because he had to do something.

  She shrugged. Her hair teased his skin. His control slipped, and his breathing quickened. She caught his gaze. “Aren’t they all?”

  Lust darkened her eyes, but there was a dazed quality to them he couldn’t quite explain. “What happened?”

  She turned her head, bringing her lips dangerously close to his. “I’ve lived a long time. Too long. And I’ve seen enough pain and misery to last an eternity.”

  The sweet scent of vanilla wafted over him. It broke his control. He settled his hands on her hips, splaying his fingers over her lower belly, and fought the desire he didn’t want to feel.

  He was a bastard. He hated himself for desiring Rowan. It didn’t stop him from drawing her close. His cock settled against her bottom. It jerked even while his gut clenched. He was pretty damn sure he was going to be sick, but precum made his boxers stick to his dick.

  She sucked in a breath but didn’t move away from him. He silently begged her to break their contact, prayed she’d accuse him of being an asshole, anything to stop him. She didn’t. She pushed her ass against his length.

  “Unlike some of my siblings, I’m grateful for my tie to the Underworld. Without the power of the Hunt behind me, I’d never be able to seek revenge for those wronged.” Rowan covered his hands and stroked his fingers. A dull ache developed at the base of his spine. “But I can’t save everyone. That’s the only thing I hate about what I am. No one should lose someone they love.”

  Ian would lose someone he loved—Tegan—if he didn’t get himself under control. He held Tegan’s image forefront in his mind and reined in his lust for her sister. The hungry beast inside fought him, but he refused to let it rule him. Sweat trickled down his back and his muscles burned, but he slowly put space between him and Rowan.

  Sanity returned.

  He rounded the corner of the counter, but Rowan’s saddened expression stopped him from fleeing. The urge to comfort her hadn’t lessened. No way was he getting any closer to her. He gave her words and hoped they’d be enough.

  “I’m sorry for your loss.” He’d bet money that was the reason behind her sadness.

  “It was a long time ago. Besides”—she let her gaze travel over him—“I’ve realized sex warms a cold heart just as easily as love does.”

  Like hell. Without a deeper connection, sex was a physical rush to reach climax.

  “Bit of advice. When you find love, don’t let it go.” He strode for the door and flung it open.

  “But sometimes, no matter how much you want to hold it close, you can’t.”

  He froze at her whispered words and glanced over his shoulder.

  She met his gaze. “We can’t control other people or fate. Both can rip our heart and soul out, and there’s not a damn thing we can do to stop it.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. Rowan was right. You couldn’t force someone to love or to trust you. You also couldn’t control the world. Shit happened, and tragedies could claim everything you held dear in the blink of an eye. He’d witnessed that multiple times during his life, but the fear of loss wouldn’t stop him.

  Ian shrugged. “Can’t live in a bubble either. If you don’t go after what you want, you’ll never get it.”

  He let the door close behind him and jogged to the stairs. Better he lock himself inside his room than fuck up his one shot at eternal love.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ian gripped the edge of the window frame. His heart raced at the sight of Tegan on her horse. The ghostly mare stood completely still at the edge of the butterfly garden. So too did Tegan. Back ramrod straight, she faced the lake. The wind lifted her hair, sending wisps of dark brown strands around her. She looked wild, untamed, and more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen.

  Her lush curves could blind a man. From her plump breasts to her rounded bottom, she matched the image of the lover he never knew he wanted but couldn’t forget. She might’ve been made specifically for him. A crazy notion, but one that held a spark of truth. Only, he suspected he’d been created for her. The thought didn’t bother him. Neither did her claim that they’d been manipulated.

  With his gaze locked on to the face that had haunted his dreams for years, he shoved his boxers down. His dick sprang free. He fisted it and stroked. A groan escaped him.

  Hard. He was so fucking hard. He had been all damn day, no matter how many times he’d jerked off.

  He blew out a slow breath through clenched teeth and tried to get control of his needs. It was a losing battle. The sight of his wicked angel so close cranked his desires higher. Sex with her had been heaven and hell, all wrapped into one. He wanted to slip into her sweet body again. She needed to pull his seed free. Make him explode inside her. Come around his length. A shudder raced down his spine. Tingles followed. He trembled as his lust took over.

  He leaned closer to the window and let the image of Tegan become his world. The veins in his shaft pulsed under his palm. He squeezed his dick and gave it a rough tug. It felt good, not as good as Tegan’s soft muscles massaging him, but it stimulated him. He shifted his hips and fucked the tight circle he’d made with his fingers. His breathing quickened as he worked himself.

  Forehead on the cool glass, he pumped his erection until harsh breaths fell from his lips and his balls tightened. For a split second, he considered stopping, but he kept up the back-and-forth strokes. He needed to come or else he’d be on Tegan the second she walked through the door. With the way he craved her, he figured he would be anyway, but she deserved to be seduced before he rammed his dick into her.

  He locked his gaze on her. His release rushed down his cock. As if she sensed him, she turned and gazed at his window. Their eyes met, and desire softened her features. Seeing it pushed him over. He grunted on one last hard stroke and exploded.

  “Tegan.” He kept pumping, kept coming, and all the while, she watched him.

  Finally the pressure eased. He broke her gaze and stumbled against the wall next to the full-length window. His cum slickened his stomach and hand. He stood there for a moment, sated. It didn’t last. His dick hardened once more, and the familiar ache settled in his balls.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  Something was seriously wrong with him, but Tegan could fix him. He knew it. So did the hungry beast inside him. He only hoped he could keep himself under control until he convinced her to mate him. He couldn’t risk scaring her off with the sexual drives she’d awakened.

  Once he made her his, he needed to track down the goddess of love and find out what the fuck she’d done to him. He didn’t care if he was a demigod. There was no excuse for the raging lusts gripping him. None of the other Huntsmen’s lives revolved around sex. At the moment, his did. He wanted to know why and how to fix it.

  Ian grabbed a towel and cleaned himself. He scanned the room. Everything was ready. He just needed Tegan to come to him. And when he got his hands on her… His cock jerked. He groaned on a surge of desire. Deep breaths calmed him. Patience. He would ensure she knew how much he treasured her. What they’d shared earlier barely eased his cravings. Tonight, he’d worship her.

  He moved to the spot next to the door. Minutes passed without her entering. A flicker of doubt surfaced. Would she refuse him? Leave him aroused and aching as she had over the years they’d visited each other. He squeezed his eyes shut. No. She’d said she had no control, that it was Minerva’s doing.

  “I trust her.” And he did. He’d prove it to her too.

  He glanced at the manacles on the four-poster bed. A grin spread. He couldn’t wait
until he gave her control over his pleasure. “But first she needs to give hers…to me.”

  Tegan sent her horse back to the Underworld, then leaned against the side of the house. She needed a moment to get herself under control. The sight of Ian lost to pleasure had broken it.

  Each time she saw him, he appeared sexier and more captivating than he had the last time. Lucas knew nothing about Ian, but the demon’s advice mirrored her own thoughts. She wanted to lock Ian to her side so no other female could enjoy pleasure at his hands.

  She shook her head and tried to get the possessive thoughts out. They weren’t healthy. Damn if she could, though. The fear of infidelity was rooted deep within her. It was Bjorn’s doing. He’d inflicted a wound she’d never been able to heal.

  She stared at her hand and wished she had the courage to go to Ian and ask him to mate her. He loved her. She only had to trust him enough to give him her heart and pray he didn’t crush it.

  Calan had made the decision to mate Harley the moment he’d spoken to her. He’d explained how right his choice had felt despite the obstacles preventing them from being together. Tegan tried to wrap her mind around the concept, but her instincts had failed her once. How was she supposed to trust them, let alone a male she’d first spoken to only a couple of days ago?

  She didn’t have an answer. All she’d accomplished while debating her choice was to waste precious time she could’ve spent in Ian’s arms. Their attraction was one thing she didn’t question. It sizzled between them. It was a start, not enough to risk everything for, but it gave her something to build on.

  Tegan pushed from the spot she’d occupied and slipped inside the mansion. The low murmur of voices reached her. She picked out Zeph discussing the changes in the human world with her other brothers, caught the drawl of Rhys’s one-sided conversation and noted the mindless chatter of some television show.

 

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