by Mary Hughes
No, this tone sounded like he was determined to get to the bottom of something. Not good news for her.
“What?” She cracked her eyes cautiously.
“Why?”
She clenched her lids as if that would make the question go away. “Why what?”
“I know why I wanted to go to bed with you. I have since I met you. But we hadn’t cleared the air, and you made a big deal about getting your father’s journal and leaving town.”
“Well…I didn’t want to go yet, after learning the journal might be dangerous.”
“You could have left it with my aunt, knowing she’d keep it safe. But instead you stopped for sex. Why?”
“Because I needed the rest—”
“We didn’t get any rest. And you knew we wouldn’t. You hoped we wouldn’t. So again I ask—why?”
Damn it, she did not want to do this, didn’t want to tell him the real reasons. He was a true friend to her, to the point that he’d taken the time to rescue her from Bruiser despite having his own, more pressing problems.
And now that her brain had cleared—satisfaction having finally muted the burning need driving her—she saw she’d blundered badly. Making babies was deeply personal. A minefield even for committed couples.
How would he take her one-sided decision to try to have his child?
No matter that it really meant more to her, meant a deep, lasting connection to him. He’d feel used. The thought nearly broke her heart.
But she couldn’t lie. Though she couldn’t quite bring herself to blurt the whole truth either. She started with a half-truth, her gaze over his shoulder. “Your aunt left us together, and I simply couldn’t stop myself—”
“No. Sorry, but that’s not it.”
She peeked at his face. Certainty lit his naked gaze, as if he already knew what the answer was and was only waiting for her to own up to it. Damn, he was scary smart, but even he couldn’t know what she’d been thinking, what she’d been wanting. Could he? “It’s not?”
“Much as I’d like to believe I’m simply that attractive, I know you. You were scared. Staying with me, having sex with me, has something to do with that.” His blue-green eyes narrowed and silvered on her. Unimpeded by his glasses, his gaze cut like a laser scalpel into her brain.
She flinched. “You make me feel safe?”
“From whom? You were visiting your mother. Is it her? Did she do something to you?”
That was his nobody-hurts-my-employees voice again.
“No, of course not. My mother…” She glanced away. “She sold my stuff, but she needed the money. My brother, though… I’m afraid he’s going to find me and ship me back to Scottville.”
“So you said.” Gabriel’s eyes went so narrowed and killing-silver it looked like he’d pith Edge with his gaze alone. “That explains your hurry to get out of town, but not…” He waved at his naked, luscious torso. “This.”
She swallowed a lump, equal parts lust and nerves. The more she thought about telling him, the more she realized how belittling it was. I wanted to take your sperm to keep me safe. I wanted to use you.
How badly would it hurt him? The last thing in the world she wanted to do, but exactly the thing she’d done.
She huffed a breath. Maybe just blurt it out and rely on their friendship to keep him from walking away from her in a fury and horror? I need you, badly. Need your help in a very elemental way…
She laughed, without humor. Elemental, basic. She needed him for the most basic thing there was. Not simply making a baby, but everything that went along with it.
She opened her mouth to lay her hidden feelings for him absolutely bare, to blurt that she wanted to make a family with him. Wanted a future with him.
And if he didn’t feel the same way, the damage would be done.
Her mouth froze, open. Flash-frying him with forever, she’d never have the chance to gradually warm him up to the idea. She’d never have the chance to romance him, to blow on the tinder of their friendship and ignite his love.
That woodpile would be ashes, gone forever.
Oh God. She’d never felt so vulnerable.
“Emma. Why?”
She swallowed hard. Too soon, too fast, but she didn’t have the space, the resources to wait for the right time. Two alphas against her, her brother wanting to sell her, her mother’s protective instinct possibly short-circuited by a necklace—Emma’s natural support structure was badly broken.
The only friend she had left was Gabriel.
If it hurt him, her only consolation was that it would probably hurt her more.
“Emma? What’s going on? Please, tell me. I can help.”
“I know.” She heaved a shuddering breath. “I know you can help. You’re the smartest, the strongest, the best person I know. And I’m so very sorry…” She clenched her eyes against the pain of what she was about to inflict on him. “Please know I wouldn’t have done it if I weren’t desperate.”
He gave an uncertain laugh. “You make it sound like sex is a horrible crime.”
In a way, it was. “Gabriel, the only way to be absolutely free of Bruiser is to be mated. I-I thought if you could make me pregnant, I could pretend…” She opened pleading eyes on him.
His were narrowed, his face shuttered. Turning his back, tightly wound, on her, he got off the bed and retrieved his glasses.
Cold shafted her. “I don’t just want your sperm as a shield. There’s more to it than that. Please believe me. Please say you understand?”
“Oh, I understand.” He settled the frames on his face, and only then did he turn his narrowed gaze on her. “If you’re mated, Bruiser can’t annex you. But mating shows in the eyes. Isn’t your mother’s mated color green?”
Implying Bruiser would see Emma’s brown irises and know she was lying, although it was an odd way to say it. “I’d use colored contacts. There are places that deliver them quickly.”
“You’d need to smell mated too.”
“Smelling pregnant would be close enough, until I could figure something else out. But if you and I…if we…” She took a deep breath. “Gabriel, what I’m trying to say—”
“Not now. It’s been a long couple days. Get some sleep.” He began to dress.
She blinked. “What about you?”
“The workout mat will be comfortable enough.”
“But there’s plenty of room here—”
“Emma.” His eyes swung to hers and stuck. “If I lay down next to you, we’re not getting any sleep. And we need to have our brains fully functional to deal with both your brother and the Enforcer.”
“Oh. Right.”
He finished dressing and walked with lithe grace to the door where he paused.
“By the way. You won’t need contacts.” He left.
* * *
She frowned at the empty doorway. What had he meant by that last comment?
Her wolf gave a happy little yip.
Her stomach jolted as a possibility occurred to her. No. Couldn’t be. She tiptoed to the door and peeked out. The hallway was empty, though it smelled of him, of her, of their desperate need, almost as heavily as the bed smelled of sex and satisfaction.
With a deep breath for courage, she crept across to the bathroom, shuffling in with her head down until she stood in front of the sink and medicine cabinet mirror.
You’re no coward. Look.
Eyes rose in the reflection.
Emerald eyes.
Joy surged through her. She was mated to the man of her dreams. To the male who made her laugh, brought her whole-body orgasms, to the man who was first her friend.
Maybe this was the real reason she hadn’t been able to run away from Matinsfield. Not the journal, but her subconscious recognizing Gabriel as her mate, their bond already forming long ago.
She shivered in happiness. She’d always dreamed of a mating bond that went beyond sex, to something deeper.
Gabriel Light was the kind of man who was all about deepe
r.
Picking up her shoes and the pile of clothes and journal, she hugged them to her chest and danced back to the bedroom, her feet floating. She’d always said to him, “I’m fine.” Now she wasn’t fine, she was better than fine.
I’m happy.
She passed through the doorway where he’d stood, telling her to get some sleep…telling her she wouldn’t need contacts, his last expression almost embarrassed.
He knew. He knew she was mated to him. But he wasn’t overjoyed at all.
Gravity reasserted itself. Her heels touched the ground, and her shoulders slumped. Yes, her eyes were emerald, but his were the same star-shot blue-green as before.
Because he wasn’t a wolf? Or because she’d mated with him, but he hadn’t mated with her in return?
If she’d been ritually mated to Bruiser, it would have been a loveless match, but at least it would have been loveless on both sides. Now…?
Cold seeped into her veins. She shuffled to the bed and sank onto it, eyes seeing nothing but a terrible future. Her things tumbled from nerveless arms to the floor. Old molly tales whispered in her ears, about one-sided matings, about the sad horror, the shame. Trapped in a loveless marriage was bad enough. Trapped in love with a man, him not loving her in return—or worse, watching as he fell in love with another woman…?
Ice skewered her stomach. I’m not fine. I’ll never be fine again.
Chapter Seventeen
Panic sent Emma’s heart into race. She couldn’t, wouldn’t stand by while Gabriel fell in love with another female.
But what could she do?
She believed he was the kind of man who wouldn’t give his heart easily. Once he loved, it would be forever.
So until then, she had as much a chance as anyone, right?
She even had a leg up, really. He liked her. They were friends. And more, he liked sex with her…no, from the sounds he’d made and the look on his face as he moved inside her, the sex was spectacular. He’d responded to her, enthusiastically.
Okay, sex and friendship. It was a start.
Confidence returned and with it, warmth. She straightened her shoulders. Surely, given enough time together, she could entice him to feel more for her than friendship. Of course she could.
The moment they left this bubble universe she’d put her plan into action. Keep him close with sex and friendship, and work hard, until he loved her.
Except once they left, sex was out of the question.
Elbows sinking onto her knees, her head fell into her hands. Stupid, stupid Witches’ Council taboo.
If only they could’ve proceeded in the usual way, coffee, first date, handholding, flowers, mating frenzy…she sighed. No, nothing about them was usual.
Then another, scarier thought occurred to her. What if the mating wasn’t real on her side? After all, they were the only living people in this bubble, a sort of Adam and Eve. She might have mated him because he was the one and only male in this universe.
Worse, maybe he knew that.
He’d been so brusque leaving.
She slumped on the bed. Joy was gone, and even hope bled away, leaving only fear and remorse. Wizard prince, iota wolf…worse, an iota who had the shameful tendency to berserk on relatives. A brother who’d sell her at the drop of a twenty-dollar bill. Plus an Enforcer who’d cheerfully see both her and Gabriel beheaded because their love was taboo.
They’d never stood a chance.
She didn’t cry herself to sleep, but when she woke nine hours later, the pillow was damn damp.
The bed still smelled like him. Like them. Like pleasure unbounded.
That scent filled her nose, her lungs.
Maybe it was the most unnatural mating on the planet, but she was mated. She shot to her feet. Almost as if she’d gone a little berserk, she was consumed by the need to be with her mate. Yeah, maybe they had no future.
But if she didn’t fight for it, that maybe would be a certainty.
She nearly sailed out nude. But he was human, and might not appreciate that. “We need to have our brains fully functional to deal with both your brother and the Enforcer.”
Retrieving her bra and panties from where she’d stripped them off in the hallway, she began to dress. She remembered how the underwear had come off, baring herself for his hot, appreciative gaze. The jeans and tee were her first commitment to wowing him. Donning each piece of clothing again solidified her will to fight.
There was a “them”, or would be again. There had to be.
Dressed, she picked up her father’s journal. It wouldn’t fit in any of her pockets, so she’d have to carry it. Clutching it to her chest, she stormed downstairs.
He was already awake in the exercise room, sitting half-Lotus on the mat with his back to her, a pile of amulets around him. Somehow he sensed her presence, because, without turning, he said, “Leave it to Auntie to have this many charms that want to be helpful but wouldn’t be any use in a fight whatsoever.”
This was it. The beginning of her battle. From his neutral, almost indifferent tone it was going to be uphill the whole way.
“Oh?” She carefully sat down next to him, trying to map out a way to start. Her stomach churned.
It was so important.
Picking up a yellow square, he held it in front of her. “I hoped this was mustard sneeze powder. But no, it’s actual mustard, for picnics.” He touched it. With a splush, a dollop of yellow splatted onto the mat.
Gabriel, she’d say, using his name to signal how important this was. What you said on the ferry, about us, together… She realized what he was talking about and frowned. “Do you need fighting talismans?”
“Well, sort of, since I’m a battle mage.” His lips tilted in a tiny smile. “I haven’t gone out unarmed in years. I have a belt with a whole array of options, from calm spells to freeze grenades to flame throwers. But I left them all in the jail.”
She gave that a thought. “Can’t you make more?”
“Logical. I’ve always liked that about you. Not with this.” He stuck out his leg, wiggling his foot, the manacle clunking against ankle bone.
“What is that, anyway?”
“Limiter. Puts a speed limit on my magic. How are you, by the way?” He finally looked fully at her.
“I’m fine,” she said automatically. Mentally she rolled her eyes at herself. The most important battle of my life, right.
He gently shook his head. “If ever there was a time not to be fine, now is it.” He heaved a breath, his chest inflating from large to massive. She chided herself not to get distracted. “But I have to admit, if ever there was a time I need you to be fine…I’ve gotten us in a pickle, haven’t I?”
Us. He thought there was still a “we”. Hope surged. “Not your fault,” she said staunchly.
He gave her a real smile at that. “I don’t deserve your loyalty. But I treasure it.”
“Ten points out of ten for being noble, but four for stilted delivery. Don’t you mean my loyalty ‘stays crunchy even in milk’ or something like that?”
That got a laugh out of him, and he eased back onto his elbows. It threw his muscular belly into relief against the sweater vest.
Making her want to grab his wrist and drag him back to the bedroom. Instead, she looked away. “Look, um, I have a question. This isn’t easy to ask. But, well, I think you noticed my eyes have changed color. And I’m guessing you know what that means?”
“Yes.”
The single bald word gave her neither discouragement nor hope. She forced herself to continue. “I remembered something you said before any of this started.” Deep breath. “You said, ‘What can’t you and I do, together?’ Remember?”
“Yes.”
His flat tone was daunting, and she feared the worst. But she had to fight. “Well, I’m thinking what we do next, whatever it is, will work only if we do it together.”
“Hmm.”
She had no idea what that noncommittal word meant. She simply forged on. “So
I was wondering…I’m mated to you, but do you…are you…” She forced herself to look into his blue-green eyes. “Are you mated to me?”
Slowly, he shook his head, and her heart wept. “I’m not mated to you. But Emma. Sweetheart. I do have feelings for you. Which is a big problem.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?” He gave her a dry, anguished smile.
“Warning. Warning. Search in progress. Warning.”
The voice wasn’t his or hers. He snapped straight, his gaze flying around the room, finally landing on the mat nearby.
Where, under the tangle of talismans, a light blinked red.
Chapter Eighteen
“What is that?” Emma’s words were punctuated by her heart drumming in her ears.
“Cinnamon toast fuck. No idea.” Gabriel dug through Linda’s charms and talismans to the continued blare of “Warning. Warning. Search in progress.”
Emma tried to concentrate on scanning the pile too, but she was distracted by the sight of his clever fingers, sifting through handfuls at a time.
“Times like this, I miss my belt.” He dumped a cleaned pile into his pocket.
“Your bat-belt?” She spied a silver-and-turquoise talisman blinking red. “There.”
“Ah. Thanks.” He lifted the disk, about the size of a quarter, between his thumb and forefinger.
“What does it do?”
“Good question.” His gaze on the thing went briefly out of focus. “I think it reacts to a search for the bearer. Basically, scrying for someone looking for us without actually using any power.” He closed his eyes, frown developing. “Fuck me in milk. The Enforcer opened our jail and did a find spell.”
Emma sucked in a cold breath. “He knows we’re here?”
His eyes moved under his lids as if he were searching a room. “No. He just now cast the find. But though he’s looking in his jail, the one we escaped from… Crispy fried bacon, he shouldn’t be able to do this. He’s searching for us in his jail, but somehow his search is resonating into other pocket universes, including this one.” His eyes sprang open. “He won’t recognize our current location, but hopefully he won’t figure out why, or he’ll know we’re out of his lockup.”
