Rook raised his sword above his head to deliver a finishing blow, but Kallus pointed in the direction of the portal tree. “You’ve failed, Blackwood. We both have. The Seer is lost to us.”
Rook paused, his sword still balanced over his head, and glanced at her. Sorrow flitted across his features for just a split second, but it was long enough. Kallus took advantage of Rook’s distraction and kicked out. A terrible crunching sound filled the air as Rook’s leg bent at an unnatural angle outward. Rook howled and dropped to the snow. Kallus moved to slice him across the back with the dagger, a haughty gleam in his eye.
Cate didn’t stop. Or think. She just acted on instinct. She grabbed the handful of nails left in her pocket, slipped them between her fingers just as she’d showed Maya, and ran like hell, screaming, straight at Kallus.
He whipped around right as the rusted nails scored the length of his side. He grunted, grabbing his ribs, and his ripped clothing and skin began to smoke, the putrid smell of burning flesh tainting the cold air. She jammed the nails home with a hard punch, leaving them sticking in his side. Red-hot pain rocketed up her arm and stars sparked in front of her vision. She let out a string of curses, knowing she’d broken her hand.
“Cate!”
Maya’s panicked voice made her look back to the rift. Her friend waited for her on the other side, but the golden seam was sealing shut.
Time had just run out.
Chapter 10
The golden rift between her world and the fae realm disappeared in a flash of light, leaving only the hulking trunks of the forest standing as silent sentinels.
Cate was breathing hard, her skin nearly numb from cold, the chill of the air cutting her lungs. The trunk of the portal tree looked as if it had never split at all. Only the ankh portal symbol still glowed. A few feet away, Kallus lay passed out in the snow.
“Cate…” Rook’s voice was quiet, but it speared through her. He sat up in the snow, kneeling on his good leg, his hands fisted so hard the knuckles turned white. His face and body had returned to normal, no longer looking like a cross between himself and a feline demon. Deep lines of pain etched around his narrowed eyes and his lips pressed tightly together.
Gran had been right. About everything. And about nothing. Yes, the iron had been a substantial weapon. Yes, following the fae had been far more troublesome than she’d anticipated and she wasn’t certain she could get home. But Gran had never said anything about falling in love.
Her heart thumped, filling her ears with its pulse. Choosing to stand beside him and fight rather than going back with Maya had been something her heart had decided for her. It had chosen saving him over seeing her family, perhaps ever again.
But Cate knew one thing for sure. She was never meant to be with a human man. It had taken a fae to break her free of the rules that had imprisoned her. A fae to show her that she had more to give than she’d ever believed possible.
A fae to waken her deepest desires and capture her heart.
Rook held out his hand. Cate slipped her cold fingers into his large grasp and, instantly, warmth spiraled up her arm and wrapped around her heart. Rook gave her a body-melting smile and squeezed her hand.
“You didn’t leave,” he said, his voice cracking with unspoken emotion.
“I wanted to.”
Hurt filtered into his gaze like clouds across the sun. “I’ll take you if you wish. The coin will come back to me by tomorrow.”
Cate pressed a finger to his lips. “You would really do that for me?”
He nodded and Cate kissed him hard.
“Is that a kiss good-bye?” he asked, his voice broken.
“You didn’t let me finish.”
Hope flared to life in his face.
Cate cupped his strong jaw in her hand, looking deeply into the eyes of the man she loved. “I wanted to go back, but I couldn’t. You were in this stupid death-match thing with Kallus.”
She glanced at the other man. With the snow falling gently across his unconscious body, he looked peaceful. Hardly the threat he’d been a mere minute before. “I couldn’t bear to think of him killing you. I love you.”
Rook struggled to his feet, balancing his weight on his good leg and wrapped his arm about her, pulling her close. “My beautiful Seer, it was only a Cattan for the right to you and your friend. He would have only tried to beat me senseless, but never killed me.”
She pulled back and stared at him. “You know, I’m not seeing how that’s a great option either. You’re hurt.”
“It will heal.” He chuckled, but then winced against the pain. “Besides, it allows me to be with you, and that’s all that really matters,” he murmured into her wet hair. “You’ve got to be freezing.”
“Just don’t stick your tongue on my skin or it might get stuck there.” Yes, her skin was cold, but inside, her heart was warm and overflowing.
Rook pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around her, then kissed her soundly. Cate felt markedly better.
He broke their kiss and held her close, his eyes full of love. “I know just what you need.” A sparkle of mischief and desire brightened his face. “A nice hot bath.”
“What about him?” Cate asked, glancing at Kallus.
Rook glanced at his fallen comrade, who still lay in the snow. “As much as I’d like to leave him here, I can’t. He’ll have to face losing the Cattan.” He snapped his fingers and Kallus disappeared, leaving the indent of his big body in the snow. “The healers in Seaneath will see to him. What did you strike him with, anyway?”
“Some rusted iron nails my grandmother gave me for protection.”
Rook raised a brow, then smiled. “Resourceful. Quick. Decisive. I like that in a wife.”
“Wouldn’t it be wise to ask me to marry you first?”
“This is hardly the right setting. Close your eyes.” Cate closed her eyes and still saw the blinding flash of light through the thin skin of her eyelids.
She blinked and found they were back at Rook’s palace on the beach. Her clothes and his were dripping wet, forming spreading puddles on the white marble floor.
“How did you get us here?”
“I can transport to places I’ve been before.”
She smacked him on the chest with her hand. “You mean you could have gotten us to Seaneath that quickly? Why didn’t you?”
He gave her a killer smile, passion smoldering in his eyes as he first peeled off his coat, then her cold, wet clothing. “I needed to have my powers recharged first, and if I remember correctly, we were rudely interrupted.”
Cate smiled and began to help Rook, indulging in the heat and hardness of him. “Can I go back at any time I want?”
“You mean to Upland?”
She nodded.
“You can if you let me go with you. Much will change between our worlds once the invasion begins. We hope to bring back balance.”
“What if Uplanders are perfectly happy the way they are?”
“You can’t stop change, Cate. Only delay it. We hope it will be for all our greatest good.”
She spread her hands along his chest, loving how he fit her so perfectly. “So you won’t let me go alone because it’ll ruin your plans?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Rook pulled her in tight against him as he caressed her. “Because in all the years I’ve followed you, I never dared to believe this could be. I’ve gone hundreds of years without finding someone like you and I know I will never find another. I won’t let you go. I can’t. I’m not whole without you any longer.”
Cate smiled, the sensation going all the way to her toes. “I know just how you feel.”
Acknowledgements
Thanks to my editor Heather Howland, for her diligent effort, and love of the O’Connell sisters and their unconventional heroes. Holly Root, agent of fabulousness, for sharing a vision with me and getting me there. To my critique partner Cherry Adair for always having a witty remark and a keen eye for detail. To my
tea friends, Karla, Jenny, Dornia, Diana, Kendra, and Rachel—thanks, girls, for keeping me smiling and sane. And of course to Jerry, for keeping me writing.
About the Author
The progeny of a slightly mad NASA scientist and a tea-drinking bibliophile who turned the family dining room into a library, Theresa Meyers learned early the value of a questioning mind, books, and a good china teapot. But it wasn’t until third grade that Theresa overcame her dyslexia and learned to read, going on to make words her life’s work. With a degree in Mass Communications, she became first a journalist, then a public relations officer in both the corporate and agency realm. She’s spent nearly a quarter of a century with the boy who took her to the Prom, drinks tea with milk and sugar, is an adamant fan of the television show Supernatural, and has an indecent love of hats. When she’s not writing, reading, sewing, canning, or running herd on the small mangerie of farm animals on her mini-farm, she’s often online at www.twitter.com/Theresa_Meyers or at www.theresameyers.com If you’re more the pen and paper type, you can always write to her at P.O. Box 25, Port Orchard, WA 98366.
THERESA MEYERS
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