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My Forbidden Desire

Page 3

by Carolyn Jewel

“Oh, shit,” she whispered. No wonder she was having such a hard time with her premonition. The danger was twofold, the events unfolding because she’d contacted Magellan and because of Xia the Barbarian. True, she had sent a picture of a stone amulet to Álvaro Magellan. She’d needed an in, and since part of Magellan’s cover was his expertise in such things, she’d gone to the trouble of getting a reference from a Berkeley prof who specialized in the subject. He had, naturally, given her Magellan’s name. Her prof friend was an expert in trinkets of ancient Middle Eastern origin. Magellan was The Expert. If anyone could identify what her amulet was and provide a clue as to its provenance if it turned out to be the real deal, that person was Álvaro Magellan. So said her friend the professor.

  Heck, yeah, she thought. All she wanted to know was whether her amulet was the real deal and whether she was wasting her time trying to use it. She didn’t see the big deal with that. “It is valuable, then,” she said.

  “Valuable enough to kill for,” Harsh said without any change in his expression.

  “You’re not joking, are you?”

  “The way I’m not joking about Xia staying with you.”

  God, what a thought. “I am absolutely not letting Killer stay here.”

  “He’s the only one I trust to keep you alive.”

  “But why? Magellan isn’t going to come after me,” she said. Damn, but she was still getting chills. “In case you didn’t hear, he’s dead.”

  Total silence. The silence behind her was deepest of all. Killer Boy was taking the quiet and making it bigger. On purpose.

  “You are not sitting here telling me someone wants to kill me over a bit of carved rock. Hell, I don’t even know for sure if it’s real.”

  “It’s real,” Killer said.

  She felt the weight of the amulet’s cord around her neck. “Real schmeal. It doesn’t do anything, so I guess it doesn’t matter.” She put that out there on purpose, and neither man looked even a little confused about what she meant.

  She wanted Xia gone, but she hadn’t flashed on getting him to leave as being her course of action. Usually once she’d identified a source of danger, she also knew what to do. In this case, there were two causes for her premonitional heebie-jeebies; Xia himself and whatever had been set in action with Magellan and her amulet. It was possible that those inciting events were setting off conflicting resolutions. Great. Just great.

  “How long have you had it?” Harsh asked.

  She wanted like anything to sit on the couch, but Xia was there taking up all the room. She stayed on her feet. “Since Turkey.” Harsh’s eyebrows rose. “Nine months, give or take.”

  “Can I see it?”

  Instinctively, she reached for her magic to protect herself if they tried to take it from her. Like that would do any good. Xia let out a growl. An honest-to-goodness wolf in-the-wilderness growl. He sat up straight, and the back of Alexandrine’s head turned into a block of ice. Her magic sputtered out. No surprise there, unfortunately. Damn, that man was scary.

  Harsh narrowed his eyes at her. Xia was sitting up, his back ramrod straight, staring at her with pure hate in his eyes. And that didn’t set her off. It should have. A look like that directed at her from a guy she knew was about as bad as they come? She ought to have reacted.

  “Alexandrine?” Harsh said.

  “What?”

  “May I please see the amulet?”

  The thing was, she didn’t want to show anyone her amulet. Not out of distrust exactly, but more in an unpleasant, precioussssss sort of way. She sure as hell hoped she wasn’t turning into Golem from Lord of the Rings, all wigged out over the Ring. And if she was developing that kind of sicko relationship with her amulet, wasn’t that a freaking creepy thing to discover? She balled her hands into fists to keep herself from touching the cord. She knew, objectively, that showing Harsh her amulet was no big deal. He wasn’t going to steal it or refuse to give it back. But her hands refused to cooperate, and what came out of her mouth was, “What for? Seems to me you two know all about it. Why do you need to see it?”

  Harsh shrugged. But his eyes did that flicker thing again, which was seriously unsettling to watch. Trick of the light, right? “Just curious.”

  She crossed her arms over her stomach. “I don’t have it with me right now.”

  “She’s wearing it,” Xia said.

  Alexandrine turned around. “What, you think you know what color underwear I have on, too?”

  Xia stared at her with his neon blue eyes. The center of her chest frosted over. Her vision must be going off, because it looked to her like Xia’s eyes were changing color, flickering between shades of blue, gray, and white. Xia mouthed the words fuck you at her.

  Harsh said, “Cut it out.” His phone went off again.

  “She’s lying,” Xia said. “I can feel the talisman. She’s wearing it.”

  “Harsh speaking.”

  “You know you’re a jerk, right?” she said to Xia. “A major, A-one, top-of-the-line, first-class jerk. Your parents must be so proud.”

  He gave her another fuck-you look. “I’m the jerk who’s going to keep your head attached to your neck.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “And you’re a fucking witch.” He took off his jacket and threw it on top of his helmet. Yes, single-digit body fat. “And a liar.”

  “Yes,” Harsh said into the phone. “In about an hour.”

  “Oh, no,” she said. She put her hands on her hips and gave Xia her Black Glare of Death. Didn’t do much but, then, she hadn’t thought it would. He stretched his arms along the top of the couch. His skin was two shades darker than golden brown, total turn-on there. She liked them tall, dark, and drop-dead yummy. He had muscles that looked like they worked hard and often. They weren’t there for show, she thought. Whatever he did required ruthless use of his body. “Don’t be getting comfortable,” she told him. “You’re not staying.”

  He leaned back and smirked at her. “Oh, yes, I am, baby.”

  Chapter 3

  Witch or not, Xia thought as he watched Alexandrine Marit stare down her brother, she was his type. Tall. Long-legged. Nice chest. Didn’t mind wearing clothes that showed her body. Hip-hugger jeans; he was a total fan of the fashion. He liked blondes just fine, and she was way blond. Practically white-blond. He could do without the short hair—that gave him the creeps—but to be fair, the cut did good things to her cheekbones. The way her shirt did good things to her chest. Maybe her boobs could be bigger, but she wasn’t deficient or anything like that. All in all, Alexandrine Marit came in a nice package. Be righteous to have a piece of that. If she weren’t a witch, he’d be all over her.

  “He’s not staying,” she told her brother.

  “Yes, he is.”

  Xia stuck out his legs and crossed them at the ankles. This was fun, watching the two of them face off. He’d say this about the witch—she wasn’t afraid of Harsh.

  She put her hands on her hips, and that lifted the hem of her shirt just enough to give him a view of pale skin. He wondered if she was wearing a thong. He sure as hell wasn’t seeing any panty lines. “No. He’s not.”

  “You’re the one who let Magellan know you existed, Alexandrine. They know about you now.”

  “They? Who the hell is they, Harsh?”

  “Who do you think? The mages. Real ones,” Harsh said. “People who make you insignificant.”

  “Thanks.” She took it pretty well, even though anybody could tell that hearing Harsh talk about the mage-kind had set her back a step or two.

  “Your goddamned biological father knows about you now. Trust me, you weren’t safe the minute you sent Magellan that e-mail. You little idiot. Now they know you have a talisman, and they’re all going to take a shot at taking it from you.” Harsh was close to losing his cool. Be interesting to see what that was like. “If you think for a minute Rasmus Kessler isn’t coming after you for it, you’re a fool. And an even bigger one if you think he cares he’s your fathe
r.”

  Xia shot to his feet, but Harsh ignored him. His sister took a look at him, but Harsh was going off, and that had her attention at the moment. “Are you fucking insane?” Xia said.

  “Shut up, Xia. This is between me and Alexandrine.” “Were you even going to tell me who her father is? Fuck, Harsh. How can you even stand being around her knowing what she is?”

  Harsh ignored him. “Rasmus Kessler gave you away, Alexandrine,” he said. “You didn’t test out as someone whose magic would amount to anything, so he sent you to live with us normals.” He spat out that last word. Harsh was hardly normal, no matter how you looked at him. “You were three years old, and he didn’t want you. He didn’t want you then, and he doesn’t want you now. The only thing he wants from you is that talisman.”

  “I know that,” she said, all chilled and calm.

  Xia’s head about exploded. He swung himself around to face Alexandrine, pulling enough magic to make the air around him spark. “You’re Rasmus Kessler’s daughter?”

  “So?”

  He should have known. He should have known the minute he saw her goddamned hair. Just like her father’s, the bastard mage.

  “Xia!” Harsh tried to get between them, but Xia was so pissed off, he reacted on pure emotion. He pulled hard on his magic and threw a block of energy that set Harsh hard on his ass. One thing he didn’t get was that even though he’d pulled enough magic to fry the witch to hell and back twice, she didn’t pull any magic of her own. No retaliation.

  “Drop dead,” Alexandrine said.

  Harsh was on his feet now, and he was shouting. Xia tuned him out. Blah blah blah. Bad Xia. Blah blah blah. Nothing new there. His knife appeared in his hand, and he lifted it between him and the witch, imagining the scent of the blood she shared with Rasmus and watching it spill bright red from her body. His arm trembled. Her eyes got big and wide, and he could feel himself falling in. “Fucking witch,” he said.

  “No.” Harsh got a hand on him, and the freak managed to pull enough to put a dent in the magic he had ready to strike. In the middle of all that, he felt Alexandrine pull, but what a joke that was.

  “What do you think you’re going to do to me, witch? Tickle me to death?” He took a step closer. This near to her, he could feel the talisman’s pulse. Her magic, pitiful as it was, amped him up even more. Gave him a hell of a hard-on, too. “I eat witches like you for breakfast.”

  She aimed a knee straight at his balls, but he stepped out of range just in time. Her magic cut off. The witch had nothing going.

  “Get away from her, Xia. Right now.” Harsh moved between them, his fingers squeezing Xia’s knife hand. “Now. Or you’re dead.”

  He looked at Harsh, and he could tell from the other man’s flinch that his eyes must be going off something serious. “Try it,” he said. His body twitched and buzzed with the magic flowing through him. “Just try it and we’ll see who’s dead when it’s over.”

  “Let her go, Xia.” The asshole had one of those voices that got calmer and calmer the more things went wrong. “If I don’t kill you, Nikodemus will.” Harsh’s magic cycled like crazy, but the threat of Nikodemus’s reprisal was enough. Xia had sworn fealty to Nikodemus, and if he killed Harsh, Nikodemus would kill him. Painfully, no doubt about that. Harsh drew his sister away, and Xia closed his eyes and took a deep breath. And then another. Relax. Jaysus, she was nothing. Nothing to him. He didn’t care. Not about her. When he opened his eyes, he was under control. Mostly.

  “You should have told me who she was,” he said.

  “I didn’t know until five minutes ago.”

  “What is the deal with you?” Alexandrine said to him. She was all pissed off, practically spitting. He didn’t give a shit about her mood. She came in close before Harsh could stop her and jabbed a finger to his chest.

  “Get her away from me,” Xia said. The skin across his back started twitching again.

  “Maniac,” she said. Her magic sputtered up again and then cut out.

  He bared his teeth at her. “I’m what your kind made me. If you don’t like the result, that’s just too goddamned bad.”

  “Xia.” Harsh was so calm he was freaky. “She doesn’t know her father. She may not even be right about that.”

  Xia stuck his fingers in her hair and raked through her short cut. He didn’t see a single dark root. A natural platinum blonde. “That’s her daddy’s hair,” he sneered as he let her go.

  The witch looked shocked as hell, and when she answered her brother, her eyes were still smack on Xia’s face. “Oh, I’m right about that, big brother. He’s my father, no mistake.”

  “Fuck this, Harsh,” Xia said. How the hell was he going to manage this? Rasmus Kessler’s daughter. “Do I have to do this?”

  She blocked Harsh’s view and faced him, giving him the finger so her brother couldn’t see. “Drop dead, okay?”

  Harsh had his iPhone out again. “Yes,” he said to Xia. “You have to do this. You want me to call Nikodemus so you can hear it from him?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “If anything happens to my sister, Nikodemus will hold you personally responsible. And so will I. You have my guarantee.” He walked toward the door, his phone in hand. “I have to get going. We’re due in Paris tomorrow morning.”

  “Fuck the others, too,” Xia said. Harsh was going off to help Nikodemus and Carson negotiate with the other warlords. Personally, he didn’t think the warlords would ever work together well enough to keep the kin safe from the magekind, but he was in no position to fault Nikodemus for his rosy outlook.

  The witch narrowed her eyes at her brother. “Paris, France, or Paris, Texas?”

  Harsh smiled and looked just like the human doc he supposedly used to be before he got all turned around. It made sense that Harsh’s sister turned out to be Rasmus Kessler’s daughter. Being a freak ran in the family.

  “Paris, France,” Harsh told her.

  “Paris would be a safe place for me, don’t you think?” Xia felt the panic underneath her words. “I have a passport. And enough money for a ticket. Won’t take me ten minutes to pack a bag, I swear. Je speak français muy bien.”

  “You can’t come with me.”

  “I don’t want to stay here with him.”

  “He won’t hurt you. Will you, Xia?”

  He curled a lip at Harsh. No. But he wanted to. Be fun to spill a little witch blood. Or a lot.

  “Why don’t you just take the amulet, then?” Alexandrine said, all paniclike. Yeah, she ought to be afraid of him. “If it’s that important, just take it.”

  Xia rolled his eyes. “Sure,” he said. “Go ahead. I want to see this.”

  She whipped her head around to him. “I’m not talking to you.”

  “You can’t do it,” Xia said. He made sure she saw him looking at her rack. “Not in a million years, baby.”

  She put her hand to the cord around her neck. All she did was grip it, though. Didn’t take it off. He doubted she could. Not with the way that thing was leaking magic into her. “An old Turkish woman gave it to me. I had to hike three hours to get to her village. She said my father made it.” She touched her cheek. “She said I looked like him.”

  “Except for the hair,” Xia said, “not that much.”

  She turned on him. “Would you please butt out?”

  “Xia,” Harsh said. He sighed. “That’s enough. Really.”

  “Relax,” Xia said. “I’m not going to do anything to her. I just want to see if she can take off the talisman.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “You’re a witch, lady. And the magekind don’t give up objects with that kind of power.” He held out a hand and lifted his eyebrows. “Go on, give it to me, baby.”

  “Fine.”

  He and Harsh watched her fingers tighten on the cord. “In my lifetime, maybe?” he said.

  She stared at her brother, and while she did, her pupils dilated until there was practically no iris left. She wasn’t pulling
, per se, because that implied some level of control, and by now he knew she didn’t have any control of her magic. No wonder Rasmus threw her away. Without control, she was worse than useless.

  “I told you,” said Xia.

  “Of course I can.” But she was whispering. Her fingers tightened on the cord.

  “Oh, yeah?” Xia said. “Then do it already, why don’t you?”

  “In a minute.” She licked her lips, but she didn’t move.

  “Alexandrine?” Harsh exchanged a glance with Xia, who just shrugged. Point made. She couldn’t do it.

  “I will. I’m going to.” Her hand shook.

  “How long have you been wearing it?” Xia asked.

  She looked relieved by the question. Sure she did. Because the question deflected the conversation from the fact that she couldn’t take off the talisman. “A few weeks.”

  “Liar.”

  She put her hands over her mouth and took a deep breath. Her eyes got all big and scared. The witch should have been scared the minute she touched the thing. She dropped her hands to her sides and addressed her answer to Harsh. “Since I got back from Turkey. Maybe nine months. A little less. What difference does it make?”

  “What if you just showed us?” Harsh said. “Can you do that?”

  The room got quiet. Perspiration dampened the hair at her forehead and temples. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked.

  Harsh shook his head at him, and Xia ended up keeping his opinion about that to himself. “Try, Alexandrine,” Harsh said.

  She lifted the hem of her blouse. The thong was long enough that the talisman hung nearly to her navel. Xia was impressed she could do that much. Harsh made a come-here gesture in his direction. “Take a look, would you, Xia?”

  Xia came around to Alexandrine and knelt at her feet, because he was too tall to get a look any other way. He leaned in close enough that his breath made her skin twitch. Without needing to look hard, he knew both sides of the circle were carved; the front had a panther with a snarling mouth and extended claws. The reverse was the panther’s body from the back, including an about-to-twitch tail, with the sole difference that this side also had a carved face.

 

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