“I don’t mind in the least. I want to be there, to hold you, even if the desire for you is maddening,” he groaned.
He kissed her forehead, and they walked into the house. She swore she could feel the darkness watching her, the same darkness that had chased her aunt into the woods. Residual or real, she couldn’t discern, but she held her head high. She tried to remind herself of all she’d learned in such a short time. Something beckoned to her, and she knew, just somehow knew, soon she’d have to fight it or be taken by it.
Chapter Ten
She woke up with a throbbing headache and a vague recollection of Darcaryn barging into her room. After that, everything went black. Looking around her, she realized she sat on a blanket in some sort of chair. From the look of the chair across from hers, boards showing through the cushion and stains running from green to black through the tan material, she hesitated to know what the one she sat on really looked like. With her hands tied behind her back, she attempted to stand. A sharp pain shot through her upper arms and shoulders as something pulled her back down. She was tied to something behind the chair.
In a panicked turn, she saw an old, dilapidated pot-bellied stove, covered in paint chips and plaster dropped from the weather-stained walls. Above her, holes in the ceiling allowed snowflakes to fall on her head. She shivered, despite the fact someone had bundled her up for the storm. Cloudy daylight lit the place. The broken window to her right let the winds howl through, too.
Just about to yell for help, she paused as she heard a voice outside. Darcaryn. He must’ve brought her here. Though not a big woman, she wasn’t slight of frame either. He couldn’t have carried her to wherever the hell this place was. Her plight filtered into her mind like the storm into this one room shack. An old schoolhouse, she guessed from the amount of tables and chairs falling apart around her. Books and papers carpeted the floor, too.
It didn’t make sense. Although, as she mulled it all over, it did if he actually worked for the secret society and had faked his way into employment with her aunt. Her intuition about him had been right. No wonder the group had gotten around her aunt’s wards and security. That was, if a group existed at all. Maybe Darcaryn was the only real enemy. Maybe he’d made the whole group thing up. All of this, everything he’d done, an elaborate plan. Whatever the case may be, she still wondered to what end.
She wanted to use her power to free herself, as it burned and rolled within her like a volcano about to erupt. Could she burn through the ropes without burning herself? No, probably not. Besides, Darcaryn would smell the smoke. If she alerted him, she’d never outrun him with his magic so much more advanced than hers. She wondered if she could simply imagine the ropes untying, but she couldn’t even see the knot low at her waist. Surely if she knew more, she could free herself. And, surely, Darcaryn was well aware of that fact. Which meant her aunt should have been able to free herself. Maybe she didn’t want to yet. They probably had her better guarded, locked up in a cell or dungeon somewhere. In a place as romantic as Ireland they had those, right?
A book under her foot made her slip as she squirmed in her seat. Lifting her foot slightly, she read “Molly the Rogue” on the remains of the torn cover. Looking at the image on the cover, she gave a half-hearted smile to Molly. A girl sat in the middle of three boys. The artist had made her larger than them. One skipped away. The other two looked at her. Nothing at all about Molly could be discerned from her image. Regardless, it seemed a sign. Kyna needed to go rogue all over Darcaryn’s ass.
She shook her head and refocused just as Darcaryn made his way back into the tiny building.
He stood a step inside the doorway with the wind blowing his long, snow-soaked hair around his face, dressed in simple jeans and his Sherpa-lined jean jacket,. Menacing on all accounts, though. She could feel it now..
She watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
With a quick flick of his tongue over his lips, he spoke in a gravelly voice, “This isn’t what you think…or as bad as you think it is, I’m sure. You have to trust me.”
“I wake up bound to a chair in the middle of a rubble heap, and you tell me to trust you?” she growled.
Her eyes watered from the icy sting of cold wind. She shivered violently now.
“Shit. You’re scared and cold. I’m so sorry,” he growled back.
With a few fluid movements, as if he flew over the mess on the floor, he wrapped his body around hers and started to rub at her arms and back.
“Stop it. Get off me!” she yelled, squirming as much as her restraints would allow.
“Shh,” he groaned, his mouth just inches from hers.
“So help me, if you kiss me again, I’ll bite right through your lip,” she hissed at him, not caring that spit had come from her mouth in the process.
He pressed his forehead to hers, energy flowing between them.
She marveled that she could hear his heavy breathing over the pounding of her heart. Her breath came in short pants, as she pushed against the calm he obviously tried to force upon her by magic. All she experienced was an evil and misguided force surrounding her.
“I hate being in this position. I never thought meeting you would have such an affect on me. You won’t believe a word I say, but I did this for you. To protect you. Let’s get you out of this cold,” he offered.
He stood and started to push debris away from the floor with his boots. In minutes, he grabbed a handle he’d uncovered, and opened a large door in the floor. Let loose from whatever her ropes had been bound to, she tried to stand on legs stiff from the cold. She gained no ground before he scooped her up. She wiggled to be freed. With every ounce of energy in her, she struggled, moved in an erratic fashion, careless of even being dropped to the floor.
Just as suddenly as she began her fight, it stopped.
“There. That’s better. You can’t fight me.”
She wanted to scream at him to release her, not from his hands, but from the magic he’d used to freeze her muscles. Yet, she couldn’t speak either. Before she could fully appreciate her panic, she found herself in a dark tunnel.
Darcaryn propped her against a wall and lit a hanging lantern. Then, he closed the door above them, blocking her from the outside world. Her limbs regained the ability to move again, but with her hands still bound behind her back, all she could do was kick him if he came close.
He moved down to sit beside her, but the urge to kick, to fight, left her.
“I don’t like to have to do it, but you leave me no choice but to invade your body, your thoughts,” he whispered like a lover would into her ear. “You fighting me will get us nowhere. Just listen to me. I’m going to be completely honest with you. I work for both sides, your grandfather and the society. Your aunt knows, by the way. I originally worked for your grandfather. But, money topping money, this society paid well to put me in their employ, too. I hurt no one, made sure I stayed true to each. I’m a loyal and hard worker. I’ve worked as a dual agent for your grandfather since his death, under his wishes, to learn more, to protect Saoirse. He got in over his head. In the end. I think he knew they only used him for his powers, and they planned to use his family the same. But, you don’t just walk away from this group because you want to, no matter how rich or powerful you are.”
He paused as he looked into her eyes. Even under his compulsion to stay calm, she could still separate his longing for her to trust him from her true feelings. The blue and silver in his eyes, in this light, appeared animalistic. As if to agree, he sniffed her hair and then ran his nose gently over her cheek.
She jerked her head away from him.
He merely hung his head in response, hid his face from her.
“So, I’ve no idea why she’d go and sacrifice herself to them,” he continued, his lids now heavy, his voice now deeper. “Guess she got sick of waiting for me to do something. Nevertheless, what could I do? I can’t fight them. I just started to play this dangerous game of trying to keep the society
happy and your aunt safe. She’s always been a wild card, though, just as her father told me. Her frequently irrational decisions don’t always add up. My loyalty is still to your grandfather. He pays me well from the grave through a trust. You have to understand. The whole reason I got mixed up in this society was at his pleading. He wanted me to accept their invitation, that’s how badly he wanted to break into politics. He craved power, more than his money or his magic could provide him. Truly, I don’t think it would’ve ever been enough with him. He hoped to use me on the inside to get in, to get what he wanted.”
“What is this society then? If you work for them, surely you know more than you told Aedan, or maybe even my aunt for that matter. Wait? He’s not in on all of this, too, is he? Does he know you work for them? Does he work for them?”
Nausea rolled in her stomach. Lies. Deceit. Magic. Could she trust no one here? She’d never trust Darcaryn. That she at least knew with the utmost certainty.
“No. No, he’s clueless, as I’ve kept him,” he spoke with a low chuckle. “Truthfully, the society is so secret, so powerful, even working for them, talking to some of them, I don’t know who truly pulls the strings. It works and meets in levels. I’m low in the rankings. A means to an end in their eyes, I’m sure. They keep most of their members in the dark. What I know for sure is they conspire to control world affairs by masterminding events and planting affluent people in government and corporations to gain further political power. Conspiracy theories abound about these types of groups. Who knows what’s true. They lurk in the shadows and pull the strings of those in the public eye, run the wallets and minds of those who make the important decisions.
“Don’t mean to sound crazy, but truly, they have their hands in everything. They are dark and ancient groups of elites who control almost every aspect of life, not only here, but in other countries as well. They are larger than life, and have puppet institutions to make them appear as they want to in whomever’s view. They use people with gifts like ours when money just isn’t enough. They have programmers, psychics, wizards, playing with mind control and satanic circles that trap demons and use their power as well. Nothing is beyond them.”
“And, my grandfather wanted to be a part of all this?” She asked, taking all the hype he spoke with a grain of salt.
She figured he just wanted to scare her. He sounded like every other nut job on the Internet.
“He had grand plans for his life. So, he had grand plans for his daughter’s life as well. He bargained with the devil, basically, to get what he wanted.”
“I can’t say I understand it all, but I think I’m starting to get the picture. Where did my mom fit into all of this?”
“I couldn’t tell you, honestly. Sorry. Look, we need to keep moving,” he urged.
“Where are we going, and why now?” she demanded.
“The magic in the house, their magic, I know it by its demonic signature. Anyway, it’s getting stronger. I could no longer be sure I could fight it alone. I saw hiding you as my only choice to keep you safe. These tunnels were built by your grandfather. They lead to a safe house, an underground bunker, I guess you could call it. I’m sure the group is aware, but if we just keep moving, maybe we can at least stay a step ahead of them. I didn’t feel you were safe in the house anymore, but Aedan wasn’t about to let me take you.”
“I don’t trust you,” she spat, trying to control her aching and shaking limbs as he brought her to standing.
His hands worked her body in more intimate ways than she’d have liked. He stood too close. He held her too hard. He rubbed himself against her every chance he got.
“You don’t have to,” he answered with a sadistic smile.
Chapter Eleven
Darcaryn, rather than move them forward, had paused and moved in on her. His hands surrounded each side of her head, flat against the wall with his forearms against her ears. He not only caged her in, but also pinned her between his body and the dirt wall. His energy slithered over her skin despite her heavy jacket.
The scent of wet earth mingled with his spicy scent. She assumed the smell to be whatever he’d last cooked up for a spell. He pressed his forehead against hers, his hot and labored breath, then scent of mint and whiskey, to bath her face. Any inklings of fear that rose inside her, his magic rushed to surround. A tornado raged inside her, excited, heated, and grew. Her mind clouded with thoughts of his blue eyes. They’d darkened from the absence of light and the growth of lust. His dirty hand rubbed over her cheek, marked her with earth and magic.
A simple touch could be used against her with someone as powerful as Darcaryn. His thoughts invaded her mind, forced her to think, to feel what he wanted her to.
His mouth crushed against hers as both his hands encompassed her cheeks.
If she’d been attracted to him outside of the spells compelling her to be, this would rate as a fairytale kiss, a magical moment to think back on later. However, the idea of manipulation mingled with her thoughts.
She tried to focus on her feelings, what she intellectually knew them to be, rather than on the emotions she knew he’d placed upon her, had fabricated from his own. A created lust, while hard to fight, felt forged at first like a whirlwind of empty seduction. Even so, it beckoned, stirred her, made her helpless to resist. Soon, the ability to discern the difference between real and fake would abandon her.
As his tongue invaded, snaked its way around inside her mouth, warred with her own tongue, her heart skipped a beat. The heavy taste of liquor on his breath screamed cowardice. He’d needed alcohol to accomplish this feat. A man of unlimited magic, sinister ways, and powerful means, yet he relied on something other than his own abilities.
She knew she had power over him, then. He had something at stake. His feelings for her had a truth to them, and she could surely use that against him.
With her hands still bound behind her back, she pushed forward with her hips, seduced him with a persuasive dance.
He groaned.
A wave of sweltering desire swept through her loins. His prurient longings surfacing, not hers. His hands suddenly strong on her hips, he lifted her to her tiptoes, grinding his denim-cloaked erection hard against her. Base. Primal. Magical. The restless desire that writhed in a cloud around them created mythical bindings.
Keeping this knowledge as her source of reality, she used her body as a weapon of destruction. Empowered to move forward, she planned to let him go to a point of weakness she hoped to take advantage of.
As her mind whirled around possible scenarios, shifted through the limited knowledge at her disposal, the fact he’d called her growing powers dangerous granted her confidence.
Her heart beat in her ears. Just the same, she picked up on a creaking above them. Seconds later, Aedan and two other men, all bundled in black, jumped down into the hole beside them.
Darcaryn’s body went stiff but pushed harder against hers. He suffocated her with his weight. His cheek, sweaty and hot, moved against hers as he stared at the intruders. His fingers tightened where they’d risen to her waist.
“What the fuck?” Aedan growled, his words slurred from the deep primal force of air. “Why the hell are you down here? A romantic getaway in the cold underground? I thought he’d kidnapped you, Kyna, but this looks more like some demented lover’s escape. This a part of your training, or a break from?”
“Such stealth and desperation you must have used to find us here?” Darcaryn purred.
He rubbed his face against hers in a show of affection. An evil grin of success etched his face.
Kyna heard the repositioning of Aedan’s feet as he moved into a lethal crouch. His white fingertips held a large gun, something that looked like he’d plucked it from a science fiction movie.
“Her safety is my responsibility,” Aedan spat. “I thought it yours, too.”
“Protecting her is exactly what I’m doing,” Darcaryn countered. “The invasive magic in the house increased. These tunnels lead to an underground bunk
er her grandfather built. I am protecting her. What I don’t understand is how the hell you found us.”
“My friends and I were trained on every weapon known to man as well as every instrument of tracking the government has to offer. Many of them most people don’t even know exist. We were the first to test them. Her aunt left a ton of money at my disposal. So, what isn’t possible with money and knowledge, not to mention the right connections? Failure isn’t in my vocabulary. Not an option. The only easy day was yesterday and all that shit. Anything else you need to know about the SEALs, ex or not? If you haven’t figured it out by now, I stop at nothing short of death to finish my job,” Aedan raged.
Aedan’s face glowed beet red, his hair sweaty and tousled.
She’d take him as her knight in shining armor anytime.
“She’s mine, in more ways than you, a mere human, even with all the money and weapons in the world, could understand. I’ll protect her,” Darcaryn hissed, his blue eyes practically black now.
Aedan dropped the gun to his side, took a few swift steps and reared back his arm to throw a punch. He swung, and his fist stopped in mid-air just short of Darcaryn’s palm, which he’d raised as if to catch Aedan’s hand.
The shock of Aedan’s fist effectively hitting an invisible wall reverberated through her. Waves of magic ricocheted around them. The two men behind Aedan had trained their guns at Darcaryn, fingers now hovering on large triggers.
Her gaze glued to the tense, impossible situation at hand, she blanked on what to do. Darcaryn hadn’t moved from her in his counterattack.
“Make them stand down, Aedan,” Darcaryn warned. His voice had taken on an otherworldly tinge, a high-pitched sound juxtaposed to the slithery depth of his tone vibrated the air. “The clock ticks. I can turn bullets back onto the men who fired them, ripping their flesh with their own ammunition. It’s a great trick. Don’t make me show off.”
Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set Page 31
