Reign of Mist: Book of Sindal Book Two

by D. G. Swank

  “I created a garden.”

  He leaned back and stared down at me with wide eyes. “You can do that?”

  “Yeah. He gave us an hour to complete it. Honestly, I’d never spent so much time on a glamour before. Not even for the book.”

  “I would love to have seen it,” he said in a wistful tone.

  “It’s probably still out there,” I said. “He told me to leave it, and I’m sure you can see it from the window.”

  He started scooting to the end of the bed, and I helped him get to his feet and hobble to the window, starting to worry when I realized how little weight he could put on his leg. It didn’t bode well for our escape.

  When he reached the window, his mouth dropped open. “You made that?”

  I stared down at the walled garden, shocked to see multiple people milling around inside it. “Yeah. Why are those people there?” I had the answer as soon as I said the words. “They’re spying on my magic.”

  “What?” he asked, his brow furrowed. Then realization washed over his face. “He tricked you.”

  Just as I’d suspected, only I hadn’t discerned the nature of his scheme. Until now. He’d known I’d bring my A game if he offered an enticing enough prize. Mission accomplished. Now he had specialists out there examining my magical handiwork.

  I’d show him.

  Narrowing my eyes, I focused on the garden then waved my hand in front of me to make it vanish.

  Nothing happened.

  I tried it again, with the same result, and started cursing.

  “Rowan?” Logan asked in alarm.

  I focused on the bed to make it into a coat rack and nothing happened. Choking panic rose up my throat as I turned toward the window. I concentrated on covering it with drapes, but the plain glass pane mocked me.

  “Rowan,” Logan said, grabbing my upper arm. “Why do you look so freaked out?”

  “Did they move you to a different room today?” I asked, then shook my head, trying to clear it and think straight. It looked the same inside, but they all probably did, and while it was roughly the same distance from the stairwell as it had been the night before, I hadn’t bothered to count the doors.

  “Yeah, one door down. Why?”

  I stared up at him in horror. “They know.”

  “They know what?”

  “They know I came to see you last night. That’s why they moved you. They put you in a null room,” I said in a rush. Did this mean Lisa was my enemy after all? Had she pretended to help us as part of Donall’s larger plan?

  “Take a deep breath, okay?” he said. “You’re freaking me out. What’s a null room?”

  “It’s like a jail cell,” I said. “for witches and mages. It nulls our power.”

  “How do you know?” he asked, then shook his head as he cringed. “You just tried to use your magic.”

  I nodded.

  He thought for a moment, then said, “I don’t think they know about last night, Rowan. I think they moved me because they decided it was time to put us together.”

  “Why now?” I asked.

  He gave me a sympathetic look. “I don’t know why they waited, but I think we both know what they intend to do. They want to use me to make you cooperate.” He leaned his shoulder into the wall and lifted his hand to cup my cheek. “But you can’t let it sway you.”

  I gasped. “What are you talking about?”

  “That mage is evil incarnate. You can not let him have those spells.” He held my gaze, his hand sinking into my hair. “We can’t let him have those spells.” He took a breath. “They’ll threaten me. They’ll likely hurt and torture me in front of you, but you have to stay firm, Ro. You can’t give in.”

  I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes, because no matter how much my heart rebelled against it, I knew he was right. About all of it.

  “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around me and held me close. I could feel his heart beating in his chest, reassuring me that he was here and alive. I nuzzled my face closer.

  “Don’t pretend you’re not glad I’m here,” he teased.

  I laughed. “While I’m not glad you’re in this situation, I have to admit that I’m glad you’re with me.” I nudged him with my shoulder. It was amazing how, even though everything around me was falling apart, Logan’s mere presence made me feel some measure of peace—like he was a rock in the middle of a fast-moving river, and I could latch on to him to keep still and steady if I needed to.

  I turned to look out the window, feeling physically ill at the sight of the three men poring over my garden. I’d been so stupid to fall for Arthur’s trick. He claimed to have been a friend of my father’s, and he certainly knew a lot about my family, but I was fairly sure I’d never seen him before, even if something about him felt familiar. The fact that he was with the Dark Set indicated that he was a power-hungry mage. Had my father known? The last couple of years before my parents’ deaths, they’d had multiple fights over my father’s ambition. Dad had desperately wanted to be on the Small Council and had asked Mom to intervene on his behalf. She’d flat-out refused. That had only been six years ago. Had the Dark Set already been planning their coup? Had my father known? Had my mother?

  Whose side had they been on?

  The thought reminded me of something Logan had said while we were hunting down the mage on the motorcycle.

  “You said you were one of the first responders to my mother’s accident,” I said. “That something about it was odd.”

  Logan took in a breath like he was about to respond, then closed his mouth again, as if he’d thought better of it. I could practically see the gears turning in his head. “Look. It was my first year on the job. Hell, my first month. I was greener than a spring shoot. I had more experience with police work from books and classes than from being in the field.”

  “But? I mean, that may have been true, but I’ve learned over the years that gut feelings should get far more credit than they do. If whatever you saw has been bugging you for all these years…”

  “The scene,” he said reluctantly, “it was strange. There were burn patterns on the car that weren’t consistent with the marks on the road or engine failure. There were other strange things too. The debris from the car, the way the foliage around it was messed up. I remembered thinking it didn’t look like an accident. It looked like…I don’t know. Like a giant had picked up the car from the road, set the bottom on fire, and then dropped it again.”

  My heart sped up and I fought to keep my breathing steady. I had never heard these details before. When the police had come to our house, Xenya and a couple other Small Council members had been there with us, holding our hands, drying our tears, and dealing with the authorities for us. Our relationship with the police had always been the same—interact as little as possible. Get them off your property as soon as you can.

  Those were the rules we lived by, and we’d never once questioned them.

  Logan was watching me carefully. I wished, not for the first time in my life, that I had the ability to read minds.

  “What about your parents?” I asked, eager to change the subject.

  “Both my parents are still alive, still married, and disgustingly in love.”

  “Gross,” I teased.

  He chuckled softly. “Yeah, it can be. Anyway, they put me through college and the police academy. Supported me and my brothers and sister through everything and worked their asses off to do it. They even offered to buy me a car, but I felt like they’d done enough.”

  “You made the right decision,” I said with a grin. “Your parents would probably have wanted to buy you a Camry or something. No Alfa Romeo.”

  “Right,” he replied.

  Really, by all accounts, it seemed like his parents were just normal Midwestern parents. No ancient mandates to protect apocalyptic spell books. No weird, deadly car crashes. No saddling their offspring with an old farmhouse, acres of land, and the weight of the world in the wake of their death.

 
“They’re good people,” he said, “but they definitely don’t understand cars.”

  “Kinda rare to find someone in this area who does,” I said.

  “I’d say ‘rare’ doesn’t even begin to describe you,” Logan said, looking at me like I was something singularly wonderful. This was how Phoebe and Brandon looked at each other. A wave of heat washed through me, and I found myself wondering what life with Logan Gillespie would be like.

  Maybe, just maybe, if we got out of this mess, I could find out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, lifting his hand to my face, his husky voice sending a thrill down my spine.

  Men had told me I was beautiful before—usually when they were trying to get me out of my clothes—but the way Logan said it made me feel like he truly meant it. Then before I realized what was happening, he leaned over and kissed me.

  Part of me knew this wasn’t the time or place for a seduction, but as his lips lightly caressed mine, I forgot where we were and why. There was only me and Logan and the electricity between us.

  I placed my hand on his chest to steady myself and to make sure he was real, because there was no way this beautiful man was here in in this hell on earth with me. But he was, in the flesh, and what wonderful flesh indeed. The hard muscles under his shirt begged my fingers to explore. My hands obeyed, skimming and caressing a path across his chest and down his abdomen. I unbuttoned his jeans, a thrill rushing through me as his tongue slipped between my parted lips.

  A growl of frustration rose in his throat and his kiss deepened. His hand landed on my waist, his fingertips slipping under the edge my shirt and lightly caressing my skin.

  A shiver ran down my back, and I kissed him in return with a hunger of my own. Gods help me, I wanted this man. Blindly reaching for the hem of his shirt, I tugged up with all the finesse of a drunkard. Logan grunted as our mouths broke contact, but he pulled the shirt the rest of the way over his head and tossed it to the floor as he pushed me backward onto the bed, my head landing near the metal headrail. Then his mouth was on mine, hot, demanding, probing, as his hand slipped under my shirt again, sliding up to cup my breast.

  I gasped into his mouth as his fingers kneaded and squeezed my breasts over my bra, then pushed my bra cup down to expose my breast under my shirt. Growling, he lifted my shirt up to my neck, and his mouth found my nipple, biting lightly. I arched off the bed as white-hot heat shot straight to my core. Reflexively, I reached for the bulge in his jeans and began to stroke.

  “God, Rowan. I’ve never wanted a woman this much in my entire life.”

  Ditto, but I wasn’t about to tell him so. Actions speak louder than words, so I grabbed the waistband of my pants and started to tug them over my hips.

  “Rowan,” he said in breathless pants, lifting off me and balancing his massive frame on one forearm. “Wait.”

  I froze and stared up at him, taking in the wild and hungry look in his eyes and feeling his hard erection in my hand. A womanly pride filled me, realizing that I’d driven him to this state.

  “We don’t have to do this,” he said once he was sure he had my full attention. “We shouldn’t do this.”

  “Haven’t you figured out I’m not much into following the rules?” My voice lowered. “Will you arrest me for breaking the rules, Officer Gillespie? Handcuff me to the bed?”

  He twitched in my hand, and his entire body tensed. “Someone could walk in.”

  I slowly shook my head, giving him another long stroke. “No one’s coming in. And no one will see us.”

  “How can you be sure?” he asked.

  I gave him a seductive smile. “Arthur won’t be back until after dinner.”

  He searched my face, and I was certain he was about to ask me what I’d meant, but instead a war waged in his eyes. “I don’t want to take advantage of you, Rowan.”

  I laughed. “You’re so cute. I’m an active participant, and it means I’m doing this wrong if you’re questioning that.” I tugged down his zipper before sliding my hand inside his underwear and taking him in a firm grasp. “Those jeans have to go so I have full access.”

  He closed his eyes as his body tensed with frustration. “Rowan.”

  “One thing you should know about me,” I murmured in a sexy tone as I used my free hand to start tugging his jeans off. “Once I make up my mind that I want something, it’s as good as done.” His eyes opened slightly, taking me in. “And I want you, Logan Gillespie. In the very biblical sense. Now.”

  My words unleashed him, and he had his jeans and underwear off in seconds. Then my own pants followed suit. His mouth found mine again as he slipped his hand between my folds and began to stroke.

  I gasped into his mouth and his tongue took advantage of my parted lips. His lips, tongue, and teeth nipped, sucked, and kissed a path from my mouth to my neck while his hand stroked and circled between my legs.

  My body was on fire with a need I’d never known before, a deep, all-consuming hunger. I was far from virginal—I’d wanted men before—but this was something else entirely. It was a need, not only in my core, but deep in my soul. But I didn’t have time to stop and consider what it meant, because Logan was filling me with his fingers, taking my desire to a whole new level.

  “Birth control?” he asked, but it was more like a breathless grunt into my ear.

  My reasoning skills were lacking at the moment, but I found a way to say, “Yeah. Got it covered.”

  “Last chance to tell me no, Rowan,” he said in a tight voice as he withdrew his touch.

  His sudden withdrawal left me empty and hollow, something that had never happened with another man before, and I was too dazed to reason it through. All I knew was that I needed him, whatever he had to give me. I wanted this and so much more.

  “Yes,” I said, hooking a leg around the small of his back. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

  His face lifted and his gaze found mine, and then he slowly prodded my entrance before sliding inside, filling and stretching me with delicious fullness that stole my breath. His gaze held mine—even though I briefly broke contact as my eyes rolled back in ecstasy—and I realized this was the most intimate thing I’d ever done with anyone. Ever. The eyes are the windows to our souls, and Logan was searching the depth of mine while offering his on a silver platter.

  It was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced in my life.

  I needed to taste him, to touch him, to be as close as possible, so I roamed his chest with one hand and used the other to pull his mouth to mine as we started to climb. But I needed more. So much more.

  Lifting my butt off the bed, I shifted and took him deeper. He groaned in pleasure, closing his eyes as his pace quickened. “Jesus, Rowan. You. Are. Perfect,” he grunted, fierce determination on his face.

  I wanted to respond in kind—I intended to—but my body had other ideas as my desire rose, higher and higher, making me breathless, and then he switched positions slightly, hitting me just right, and I imploded. Stars danced before my eyes and wave after wave of pleasure rushed through me like a tsunami. When I finally recovered enough to open my eyes, Logan was lying next to me, his abdomen and chest pressed to my side, his arm wrapped protectively around me.

  I stared up at him. “Where the hell have you been all my life?”

  He grinned. “I could say the same to you.”

  “At the risk of sounding like one of my sister Phoebe’s movies, that was damn near perfect.”

  Something shifted in his eyes, and normally I would have thought I’d just scared him off—then again, normally I wouldn’t have told him that. Turned out captivity did weird things to me. But the look in his eyes quickly flickered from surprise to satisfaction then to peace—as though what I said was confirmation of something he’d been looking for.

  “You realize that you’ve just thrown down the gauntlet,” he said with a grin. “Next time we aim for complete perfection.”

  Next time.

  I tried not to dwell
too much on next time. I didn’t do the serial dating thing, and Logan was a human at that. There really shouldn’t be a next time, but I’d enjoyed this, and if I got a next time, I’d thank the gods, because Logan Gillespie was damn near perfect himself.

  He helped me get my pants back on, dressed himself, then lay down on the narrow bed, gathering me into his arms. I fell asleep feeling safer than I’d felt in a long time, even if I knew it wasn’t true.

  After what we’d just done, our lives were in more danger than before.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I woke up first as the sunlight was disappearing, and couldn’t resist running my fingertip along the hard line of his jaw down to his chin. My gaze lifted to his lips, and I ran the pad of my finger along his full bottom lip.

  Part of me ached to kiss him, to claim him like he’d claimed me earlier. I’d never been kissed like that before, and had certainly never experienced this kind of hunger after sleeping with a man. His lips were achingly close, tempting me, yet something held me back.

  I was no blushing virgin. I’d had my share of men, all meaningless, empty… I struggled to define my entanglements. They hadn’t been one-night stands, but they hadn’t been relationships either. Logan felt different. He felt like he could be the one. Which was an utterly ridiculous thought. For one thing, he wasn’t a mage, and for another, I wasn’t the kind of woman who fell for a guy after only knowing him for a few days.

  One of his eyes cracked open and he said, “How long have you been fondling my face and staring at me like I’m a veggie burger?”

  I chuckled, starting to pull my finger away from his lips. “Veggie burger?”

  He grabbed my wrist and turned my hand so he could place a soft kiss on my knuckles. “Well, I doubt you’d be craving a steak so…”

  I laughed. “How about I’m staring at you like you’re a veggie pizza from Dirko’s?”

  “Veggie pizza from Dirko’s?” He sounded incredulous, which was a sharp contrast to the gentle kisses he was placing on each knuckle on the back of my hand. “What a sad waste. More like a Kitchen Sink pizza.”