by Amber Kallyn
Her amusement fled.
Disappointment in himself rose.
Anca shot him a tight, neutral smile and strode into the trees, toward her campsite. "How'd you find me?"
He didn't answer the question.
She glanced up at the sky. "You're a bit early, don't you think?"
Uncomfortable, he jumped to his earlier thoughts. "I figured you could probably use a meal."
"Dinner?"
"There's a bar and grill on the edge of town that'll still be open."
She watched him a long moment. "All right," she finally replied.
A surge of satisfaction welled within him that he refused to acknowledge. It was food, not a dinner date.
When they reached her camp, Anca released the wards and bid him enter. "I need to grab a few things before we go." She ducked into her tent.
Matt had the urge to follow, if only to be near her snappy energy. He shook his head violently, staring out at the forest. At the path where the guiding leaves remained strewn in a line.
And he wondered who or what wanted him to find her as he had.
***
The man was amusing, Anca would give him that. He'd actually blushed when she'd emerged naked from the lake.
She'd known with one look at his disturbed aura that he was embarrassed. The light gray had flickered with a deep ruby, a darker shade than the wash of crimson that was his immense vampiric power.
As far as she'd been able to tell, he hadn't felt the immediate blaze of lust rampaging through her. The thoughts—no, more, insistent wants—revolving around a fantasy of Matt approaching. Being overcome by the desire flaring in her blood, and taking her then and there.
Troubling thoughts.
Accompanied by frightening feelings.
Anca hurried to pull on a pair of socks and her hiking boots, then tied her sword to her waist and left the tent.
Matt stood near the opening to her wards, staring out at the trees.
For a moment, she was struck mute.
Moonlight shadowed his face, making him appear harsh and cold.
Yet, she was coming to realize there was far more beneath his icy façade than he seemed to want others to know.
More bothersome was that deep inside of her, something kept stirring. Something she didn't want to acknowledge, much less examine.
When they reached the parking lot, Matt opened the SUV's passenger door for her, then rounded the vehicle and jumped in the driver's seat.
As he headed to town, he too-casually commanded, "I heard what happened earlier."
She blinked and looked up from the road. "What do you mean?"
A scowl teased his wide mouth. "Stopping the fight between the wolves and some of our clan vampires."
"Oh. That."
"Yeah that," he replied with aggravation.
"You're mad I stopped them?" she asked incredulously.
"No!" He sighed, shook his head. "I don't understand why you stepped in."
Everything became clear. Her heartbeat slowed. "You mean, since I'm from the Magic Council, why would I care about the locals?"
His eyes flashed.
She'd nailed part of it.
After a few silent minutes, he asked, "So why did you?"
"What does it matter? I'm from the Council, therefore I'm evil. It must be part of my nefarious plans."
"That's a ridiculous answer." He glanced at her quickly, his hands tightening on the steering wheel at her incredulous look. "What?"
"Your attitude about the council is equally ridiculous. I understand the terrible things you went through, I really do. But I swear to you, the Council fought to stop it. Coronado and the other Rogue Judges were not sanctioned once they broke Law. Think about it. You know. You've said yourself how strict the Council is about the Laws. Do you truly, honestly believe they'd allow their own people to blatantly go around breaking them?"
Shadows crossed his face. His jaw ticked. But the silence didn't hold the rage it usually did when she spoke of the Council. Perhaps he'd actually heard her this time. And if miracles truly happened, just maybe he'd think about the logic behind her words.
If the Judges were allowed to randomly murder, they'd be no better than those they hunted. Chaos would have long ago crashed over the entire world.
They passed a sign announcing the town limits. Matt asked softly, "Will you tell me why you got involved?"
"Because I couldn't just walk by. Someone might have died tonight. Over a stupid conflict between Arcaine. Did you know that kid, Robby, was there? Him and some of the castle guards."
Matt nodded slowly. "Robby's best friends with one of the guards, Leo. Have you met him?"
"As of tonight I have. But I've been aware of his situation. Of his sister."
"You truly care about others, don't you?" His voice changed to a mix of wonder and disbelief.
Dryly, she replied, "Sometimes people from the Magic Council can actually be good guys."
He shot her a glance that said he was still reserving judgment on that one. "Since you're answering questions, will you tell me why you don't carry a cell phone?"
The out of the blue question made her pause a moment. Then she jumped on the chance to lighten the tension sizzling in the vehicle. "Obviously you've never heard the story of the dragon, Oscar of the Sky."
He crooked a brow. "No I haven't. What does a dragon have to do with anything?"
She settled back, watching him drive as she told the story. "Right after cell phones became popular and accessible, a vampire Master in Las Vegas figured out an Arcaine was causing some local fires. Turned out to be a dragon."
"Oscar of the Sky, I presume."
"Exactly. So the Master and a couple of his vampires have Oscar pinned down somewhere in a deserted warehouse. They search for hours and can't find him. Finally giving up, they start to leave. But then Oscar's cell phone beeps and gives away his position."
"So what did the vampires do?" A flicker of interest and amusement sparked in Matt's honeyed eyes.
"They pounced. Oscar lost his head. All because of his cell phone's untimely beep." There was a bit more to the story, but she kept it easy, enjoying his small grin.
"There's this helpful thing called an off button."
Shocked the man seemed to be teasing her, Anca stated, "I don't trust them. And though they might come in handy sometimes, I've never found not having one to be a problem. Besides, I've been around long before cell phones existed. I think I'll be fine sticking to my decision."
He shrugged. "Being able to talk to anyone in the world at the touch of a button can be pretty convenient."
She grinned. "If I ever find myself in a position wishing I had one, perhaps I'll change my mind."
"Assuming the need for a cell phone isn't so great that it ends up being the lack of one that ends up being your problem."
"Instead of being like Oscar, my head might roll by not having one, you mean?"
Dark emotion flashed in his eyes, ringing his irises with crimson. "Hopefully it doesn't come to anything as drastic as that."
"Aw." The man actually seemed to care.
Warmth infused her veins, heated her blood at the idea. More surprising was the fact the idea felt comfortable.
Welcome, even.
She shifted uncomfortably at the realization they were sitting here, talking and teasing each other almost like friends.
Anca didn't have many friends, she didn't want them. There wasn't time in her busy, always-on-the-move life. And, she knew well, she had a hard time trusting people.
Not because she feared they'd betray her.
No.
More terrifying was what happened when she came to care for someone, only to lose them to death. Her heart, her soul, held so many cracks, there wasn't room for more.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Matt held the door open for Anca, then stepped inside. As they passed the bar, one of the waitresses glanced up. "Doc? Not used to seeing you here." Rae's gaze flickered to
Anca, then back to him, lighting with a glint of speculation. "Well, now. You drinking?"
He replied, "Coffee. Some food. Smokey's still got the kitchens open, right?"
"All night and you know it," Rae replied. "Two coffees?"
Anca nodded. "Please."
Matt followed her through the large place to a booth in one of the back corners.
He tried to avoid the bar's two ghosts—the men always acted like clowns when Matt came in. Sure enough, one of the guys floated to a stop in front of Matt and raised his fists in a mock boxing match.
"Not today," Matt replied. "I'm here with someone."
The ghosts turned to Anca. After some elbow nudging and sly grins, they drifted away.
Matt sat in the cushioned booth across the wooden table from Anca, surreptitiously looking her over. She'd been mauled just that morning. Yet she'd walked right in between the pack and the clan tonight.
Even though it wasn't her job.
Other than the sheriff and the King's cousin, Connor Gregory, Matt had never known anyone from the Magic Council to involve themselves in issues not directly related to their orders.
She seemed to settle as she looked over her menu, the tension leaving her shoulders.
An impossible breeze ruffled the sleeve of her blouse. It crossed the table and brushed over him. Soft touches, questing, almost childlike, seemed to pat his cheeks.
It couldn't be ghosts. He was certain of that now.
Yet, whatever this magic was seemed almost sentient and curious.
Matt got the feeling that it wasn't coming from Anca, but she had to know something about it. "Is there something here with us? Something that followed us from the forest and your camp?" And had led him to her while she'd bathed naked in the lake, stunning beneath the moonlight.
Anca shot him a startled glance. "What do you mean?"
He pointedly looked at her moving sleeve, jerkily sliding off her left shoulder.
She pulled it back up.
The tickling air brushed him again.
Anca turned to her menu once more. "They're spirits of the earth's magic."
"How powerful are they?"
"It's hard to explain. They can't harm anyone, as far as I'm aware. They're just curious about the world and its constant changes."
He could feel them, but not see them. Nearly the opposite of the ghosts he was used to. "Why haven't they bugged me like this before?"
"Probably because they tend not to show themselves to anyone without the magic to see and communicate with them."
Earth spirits. "But they can give people signs?" Again his mind filled with the memory of her naked, unselfconsciously striding from the lake.
"They can. They just usually don't." Her words pulled him from his thoughts, but not before his body tightened heatedly.
"Why would they give me a sign now?"
Her eyes darkened. She licked her bow-shaped lips, and all he wanted to do was cross the table and kiss her.
"I don't know," Anca finally replied. "They seem to like you for some reason." Her tone said she could hardly believe it.
Before he could ask more, Rae arrived with the coffee. Like always, cheerful and smiling, she took their orders.
When she left, Anca settled back in her seat, watching him.
"What?" he asked.
"You're quite chatty tonight." Some emotion he couldn't pinpoint thickened her lilting voice and heightened her old world accent.
If she thought he was chatty, he might as well keep asking questions. "You never answered me about why you work for the Magic Council. Will you now?"
"Why?" She settled her gray-blue gaze on him, a weight he felt deep inside.
"Because I'm curious." Because he wanted to know more about her. About this woman he should despise, yet didn't. She'd somehow been able to touch inside him. "You intrigue me."
Her mouth tightened in surprise. "Why doesn't matter to this job."
"It matters to me." The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Straightening, her shoulders tight with returning tension, Anca looked away and scanned the few diners.
He didn't call the words back, only waited, still and silent.
When she finally looked at him once more, her eyes were unemotional, flat. "It shouldn't."
"Shouldn't what?"
"Intrigue you. I shouldn't interest you."
"Why not?"
Her mouth dropped open, then snapped closed. "Do I really need to count all the many reasons?"
Something inside him released and a grin grew. He was enjoying the snap of confusion in her eyes. The way she suddenly seemed off balance. "Go for it. What's number one?"
"I'm here to do a job. Kill people, remember? Not get emotionally entangled with a local vampire."
Something inside him shifted. The world turned off kilter. "Emotionally entangled? Who said anything about emotions?"
A hot blush darkened her cheekbones. She scowled. "No one. That's not my point."
But a flare of enjoyment had sprung up at her comment, now hadn't it? He settled back in his seat, pondering his reaction.
Her scowl deepened. "Anyway, number two is that I'm from the Council. You despise me."
"Not really," he replied. The hell of it was, the fact didn't seem to bother him as much as it had. As much as it maybe should.
Her eyes widened. Unreadable thoughts flew over her face.
Rae stopped by to refill their coffees and drop off an armful of the first of many plates. After she left, Anca picked up her fork and took a bite. They ate in companionable silence until the food had disappeared.
Settling in her seat slightly more comfortably, she changed the subject. "Do you know this witch we're meeting?"
He studied her a long moment.
She refused to meet his gaze.
He wanted to learn more about her. But though he enjoyed teasing Anca, the things inside left him confused and unsure, a despicable place. One he needed to figure out before he pushed her any further.
Letting things lie, he blanked his expression. "I do."
Jezamine was a strange old witch. Older than any other Arcaine he knew. Some called her a prophetess, a Seer. Others whispered she must be a sorceress. No one knew for certain.
"Will you tell me about her?" Anca asked.
"She can be trusted." He precisely lined up the racks of condiments in the middle of the table. "The rest? Like Jordan said, you'll see."
Anca stiffened, eyes narrowing. "What, did he order you not to tell me anything? Or are you a parrot repeating his words?"
"Neither." He nudged the salt and pepper shakers into a uniform line. "She's hard to describe. The only thing of importance is that she's loyal to our clan."
"Why? Witches tend to do business with whoever has the right amount of coin. They don't align themselves with other Arcaine."
It was a question he'd considered before, but never found a satisfactory answer to. "I don't know. Perhaps you should ask her."
Anca reached across the table, and poked the glass container of sugar packets out of the straight line Matt had created.
He pushed it back neatly. "What was that for?"
She smirked, making a shiver slide down his neck.
Rae timely returned with another tray of plates.
When they finished eating, Matt paid the large bill, and escorted Anca back to his SUV. They drove out of town, to the clan castle. The massive gate at the edge of the property stood open, but the guards had been doubled yet again. After a thorough inspection they were waved through.
Matt didn't see anyone watching the long road, but the massive trees on either side emanated the pulse of clan magic. Jordan had called in security with a heavy hand.
He heartily approved.
In the passenger seat, Anca stared out the side window. She tapped her knee every time they drove past another hidden guard, obviously sensing the magic though she wasn't clan.
Cars filled the parking area off to
the side of the castle. Matt slid into a spot at the end, then walked her to the large wooden doors.
Inside, he led the way to Jordan's receiving rooms.
Anca glanced around. Like the last few times she'd been here, she appeared completely unimpressed with the beauty of the place. Matt always found it enjoyable.
He didn't have the same attachment as others, like his King, who'd lived in castles when they'd been mortal. Matt was quite certain he wouldn't have enjoyed the place nearly as much without its modernizations.
The King's large informal room was brightly lit. Heat welcomed them from the steady flames in the fireplace. Furniture had been rearranged to fit over a dozen seats, all facing inward to form a long elliptical circle. The two high backed chairs his King preferred now sat at the head of the oval like thrones.
The only two people in the room presently occupied only one of those chairs.
The King's wife, Dalia, draped across Jordan's lap, her hands cupping the man's jaw. They kissed each other, clinging tight as if to never let go. Their passion was a thrum in the air.
Matt irresistibly glanced at Anca. He remembered all too well their own battle of mouths.
She met his gaze. In her smoky eyes was the same lingering memory encompassing his thoughts.
Time ground to a halt.
Anca licked her lips.
The urge to drag her from this room and find someplace private, to capture her mouth, to get drunk on her taste, fired his blood.
Before he gave in and did something they'd both regret, he snapped himself to the here and now, taking a large step away from the captivating gypsy woman. He cleared his throat loudly.
Jordan and Dalia slowly parted.
Bowing courtly, because it amused Dalia, Matt said, "M'Lady, this is Anca Fieraru. The investigator from the Council."
Dalia stared at Anca with a tight expression.
Jordan moved between them. "Welcome."
Anca glanced at all the chairs. "How many people are you expecting?"
The Queen stepped from behind Jordan, shooting him a disgruntled look.
Jordan replied, "Six in total. Only two more, the witch and the Keeper."
Raising a brow, Anca looked pointedly at the chairs again.
"That's me," Dalia answered. "It can make things easier to give people plenty of options. Plus I find it interesting to study how they strategically place themselves in the room." She continued to stare at Anca, a myriad of emotions running across her face.
