Don’t you mean better than the vision?
Ignoring her traitorous conscience, she angrily declared, “Stop it!”
The wicáhmunga widened his eyes in a parody of innocence that made him look positively demonic. “Stop what?”
She glared at him. “You know what. You’re playing mind games with me.”
“As soon as you strip, I’ll gladly make them physical,” he replied in a suggestive voice that sent shivers down her spine. To her irritation, her reaction was not due to fear but to a strange heat stirring deep inside her . . .
Confused by the feeling, she again glanced at his triangle. It had taken on a deep purple sheen, and she suddenly understood that the object had taken a new tack. It hadn’t been able to push him over the edge with anger, so it had resorted to using his libido. She gulped again. She knew how to fight anger, but her experience with sex was limited to one chaste kiss.
“I realize you’re angry with me,” she said, raising her gaze back to his face. “And I can understand your feelings. But you aren’t looking beyond the immediate situation. It’s true that I don’t want you to harm Willow, but if you do, what will you gain? Certainly not my cooperation, and I’ll summon the rest of the snakes. You might be able to kill a few of them, but you won’t be able to kill them all. Then who’s going to handle this urgent mission you’re on?”
Lucien. The name flashed through his mind, and Sarah blinked in surprise when it was immediately followed by the image of two babies, who couldn’t be more than a few months old. Even more startling were the strong feelings of remorse that erupted inside him at the image.
Why was he feeling remorse about the children?
Had he harmed them in some way? The thought was too disturbing to even consider, so she looked at the triangle. It was fading back to silver, and she knew that this might be her only chance to regain control of the situation.
She looked back up at him and said, “You said you aren’t like Seamus Morpeth, so prove it. Give me Willow, and I’ll declare a truce.”
AS SARAH SPOKE, Sebastian glared at her, unable—or rather, unwilling— to believe that she’d wrested control from him again. But as much as he abhorred admitting it, her argument was sound. Other than the satisfaction he’d derive from killing the snake, he wouldn’t gain anything.
He glanced down at the reptile. It was now as passive as a rope, which was why he’d all but forgotten he was holding it. He knew, however, that the moment he released the rattler it could—and probably would—turn on him. To let it live would be insane, but if he died, Lucien would have to take over his mission until the council of high priests found another troubleshooter. Sebastian knew he couldn’t place that burden on his cousin. Lucien was a powerful warlock, but he didn’t have the powers that the troubleshooter possessed. He was also a new father—he and his mortal wife, Ariel, had four-month-old twins. If Lucien took over this job, there was a good chance he’d be killed. Sebastian couldn’t risk that. Lucien and his children were too important to the coven’s survival.
“Please, wicáhmunga,” Sarah said, breaking into his thoughts. When he looked at her, she took a step toward him and extended her hand. “Trust me.”
He cast a quick glance at the snake, which was still passive. Returning his attention to Sarah, he made one last effort to connect with her mind. When nothing happened, he cursed. It went against his very nature, but he knew his only chance at survival was to trust her.
“Take the vile beast,” he said, before he could change his mind.
She quickly reached for the snake. When she took it from him, the serpent immediately bared its fangs at him and began to rattle. As Sarah lifted its head to her face, she murmured something low and unintelligible. The snake swiveled its head toward her and flicked its tongue against her cheek.
Sebastian grimaced in revulsion, then scowled when Sarah gave him a tentative smile and said, “Thank you.”
He wasn’t feeling gracious, so instead of telling her she was welcome, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and asked, “When are you going to call off the rest of the snakes?”
“I’ve already done so,” she replied as she bent to set the rattler on the floor. It slithered toward the shadows at the back of the cave. “You’re safe for now, wicáhmunga.”
“My name is Sebastian, so stop calling me wicáhmunga,” he snapped, not sure he believed her about the snakes but not about to admit it. “And what the hell is a wicáhmunga anyway?”
“A literal translation is magician,” she said as she stood upright.
“And a non-literal translation?”
She regarded him for a long moment, and Sebastian found himself mesmerized by her eyes. There were only two eye colors within his race—a silvery blue from birth until the age of sixteen, and brown thereafter. He knew there were more color variations within mortals, but he also knew that Sarah’s strange golden hue would be considered an oddity even for them.
She gave him a wry look and shook her head. “Only a wasičun would ask for a non-literal translation.”
“Wasičun?”
“Literally, it means white man, but it applies to all non-Indians.”
“And you don’t like wasičuns?”
“I think it would be more fair to say they don’t like us. But you aren’t here to have a philosophical discussion about the trials and tribulations of my people,” she said, gesturing toward the fire. “Let’s sit down and talk about why you are here.”
Sebastian knew he should do as she asked, but he still smarted over the fact that she’d bested him. So instead of sitting down at the fire, he glanced around the cave.
It wasn’t that large. Maybe twenty-five or thirty feet deep and about twenty feet wide. He glanced toward the ceiling and noted it was only a few inches higher than his own six feet, five inches. He turned his attention to the items stored within the cave. There was a rolled sleeping bag, some cast-iron pots and pans, and a few dishes. There was also a wooden trunk, and he suspected it stored clothing.
“You live here?” he asked, glancing back at Sarah.
“Do I look like a cave dweller?” she replied dryly.
Sebastian automatically flicked his gaze over her, and he experienced another surge of desire. Irritated, he returned his gaze to her face. When her beautiful features came into focus, he forgot to breathe.
Ever since he’d donned the triangle, he’d been trying to connect with Sarah’s mind and failed. But now, as he stared at her, his mind meshed with hers without any effort on his part.
But it wasn’t her thoughts he latched onto. It was a vision so powerful that he had to lock his knees to keep from falling.
They were making love, and the sensations were so intense—so real—that his entire body was instantly aroused. They lay naked on the sleeping bag in front of the fire. He could feel the softness of her smooth skin against his hair-roughened flesh. Her full, pliable breasts were crushed against his chest; her pebbled nipples exciting him to even greater heights of desire.
Suddenly, she wrapped her legs around his hips and arched toward him, and he entered her urgently, roughly. He groaned.
Being inside her was like nothing he’d ever felt before. She was so tight. So hot. So wet. Then he moved inside her, and she responded with such passion that he had to fight to maintain control. But he almost lost it when she mentally wailed. Sebastian! Please!
He wanted to prolong their lovemaking, but he couldn’t ignore her plea. He began to thrust into her rapidly, latching onto the storm of her desire—letting it sweep him away until—
The vision ended so abruptly that Sebastian felt as if he’d fallen into a bottomless abyss. His entire body was taut and trembling, and his groin was heavy with the ache of unfulfilled desire.
He closed his eyes and tried to regain control. But the lovemaking ima
ges began to repeat in his mind with such clarity that he knew Sarah was replaying them in her mind. He also knew instinctively that she would again end them a moment before climax.
Isn’t it interesting that this is the first time you’ve been able to read her mind, and she’s tormenting you with visions of unfulfilled sex, an inner voice murmured. She knows you’re stronger and smarter than she, so she’s using seduction to manipulate you. And once she has you weak and begging for completion, she will destroy you.
As Sebastian’s eyes flew open, he noted that Sarah’s eyes were closed tightly. Her face had a sensual flush, and as he lowered his gaze to her heaving breasts, his temper exploded. If she thought she could destroy him with fantasies of sex, she was in for one hell of a surprise!
Prove that to her. Show her that when she incites a warlock’s passion, she can’t deny him fulfillment. Make her the one to beg, and then give her what she wants.
At the voice’s prodding, Sebastian crossed the short distance between him and Sarah and dragged her into his arms. As he crushed her against him and lowered his lips to hers, another voice cried, You can’t do this. Stop and think. There’s something wrong with this picture!
He shut out the voice. He didn’t want to think.
He wanted to feel, and he listened to his body, which was demanding he assuage the lust that had him so hot he was sure he was about to burst into flame.
Chapter 4
Evil Tempted
DESIRE. SARAH HAD always thought it would be a sweet, tender yearning. But as her mind again filled with the vision of her and the wicáhmunga making love, she realized there was nothing sweet or tender about it. It was a hot, consuming need that centered low in her abdomen and raged throughout her body with the violence of a thunderstorm.
Instinctively, she knew that succumbing to passion would destroy her, and she fought frantically against the vision. Thankfully, she stopped the images before the moment of climax. To her horror, however, that didn’t end her torment. The vision merely began to repeat itself in her mind, causing her desire to escalate.
She knew she wasn’t strong enough to stop the vision a second time, and she mentally beseeched, Wanága! Help me!
If he heard her, he ignored her, and she closed her eyes tightly and renewed her frantic struggle against the vision. If she refused to let it reach its natural conclusion, then maybe she could keep it from coming true.
And I have to keep it from coming true. I have to. I have to. I have to! That thought chanted through her mind.
When she felt the wicáhmunga pull her into his arms, she thought it was a part of the vision. Then he lowered his lips to hers. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know that this was real. His kiss was ruthless, bruising, but it didn’t cool her ardor. It made it flare higher, hotter, until she felt as if she was aflame.
Bite him! Claw him! Kick him! Her self-preservation instincts screamed. You have to escape him!
But he chose that moment to crush her body against his. When the hard length of his arousal pressed against her abdomen, she gasped. He took advantage of her parted lips to slide his tongue into her mouth.
As he plundered her with his tongue, she told herself she had to fight him. She raised her hands to push him away, but she felt her body mold to his and her arms rise to wrap around his neck. When he rocked his hips against her, the sensual friction made her entire body tremble.
Wanága! Please! Help me! she again pleaded.
There was still no answer. As the wicáhmunga continued to ravage her with his kiss she moaned, but she didn’t know if it was from fear or from the ravenous need growing inside her.
Open your mind to me, Sarah. Let me feel what you’re feeling, the wicáhmunga encouraged. Let me show you what you’re doing to me.
No! she responded desperately, closing her eyes tighter. She knew if she gave in to the temptation of what he asked she’d be lost forever.
She’d been reading minds for as long as she could remember, but she couldn’t recall ever hearing mental laughter. But that was the response she received from the wicáhmunga’s mind at her denial. However, it wasn’t a mirthful resonance. It was a low, scornful sound, immediately followed by the onslaught of intense, sexual emotions that rocked her to the core.
She shivered in alarm. What was happening to her? Where were these emotions coming from?
The wicáhmunga. He was making her feel what he felt—projecting his own desire into her mind!
She again told herself to fight him, but his passion swamped her, irresistibly drawing her into his unrestrained lust. The heavy need in his groin made her womb contract with wanton need. When he swept his hand down to cup her buttock and pull her even more intimately against him, the searing wave of desire that swept through him made her knees buckle. If she hadn’t had her arms around his neck, she would have fallen. Instead, she sank slowly, bonelessly, to the floor.
He sank with her, his mouth never leaving hers. When they were kneeling, he grasped one of her arms and pulled it from around his neck. Then he lowered her hand to the front of his trousers.
She started at the shock of touching him so intimately and ordered herself to jerk her hand away. But she couldn’t stop herself from exploring him. He was so big. So hard. And the shuddering wave of passion that raced through him at her touch filled her with a beguiling sense of power.
Ah, Sarah, power is such an illusion, just when you think you have it, it’s stripped away from you, the wicáhmunga taunted.
Before she could assimilate his pronouncement, he slipped his hand between her thighs. As he began to stroke her, he moved his tongue in and out of her mouth in a parody of lovemaking.
Her body quivered—her heart racing and her pulse pounding at this new sensual torture. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was feel, and the sensation was exquisite pleasure.
Open your eyes, Sarah, Wanága suddenly ordered.
No! she answered, knowing that if she obeyed him the magic would stop. And that’s what this was. Magic so wonderful that she wanted the wicáhmunga to keep kissing her, touching her, forever.
Sarah, open your eyes. Now!
She mentally shook her head, but slowly opened her eyes. She was so engulfed in the haze of passion that it took a moment for her mind to register what she saw. When it did, she blinked in shock. She could still feel the wicáhmunga’s lips on hers, his tongue plundering her mouth. She could still feel his hand between her thighs, touching her, stroking her into mindless passion. But he wasn’t kneeling in front of her. She was staring at his knees!
A shiver of horror crawled down her spine, dispelling all remnants of desire. When he’d first pulled her into his arms, she knew it had been real. His kiss had been too rough to be anything else. So when had reality turned to fantasy?
Obviously it had to have been when she’d sunk to her knees. She cursed herself for falling for his lies. He’d made her believe that his magic wasn’t working, and when she’d let her defenses down, he’d taken control of her mind. He’d made her think he was making love to her, but outside of that initial kiss, he hadn’t even touched her.
She felt the heat of humiliation stain her cheeks. She’d been right about him all along. He was as evil as Seamus Morpeth, and he’d use whatever means of torture necessary—even sexual torture—to get what he wanted from her.
Warily, she leaned her head back to look at him. He towered over her, his hands braced on his hips. The triangle was again glowing red, but it was his eyes that made her shudder. They were alight with a strange, pulsing glow, and she knew it wasn’t a reflection of the fire. The light came from somewhere inside him, and it was so brilliant it was almost blinding.
Suddenly, he murmured some unintelligible words and circled his hand. She let out a yelp and scrambled backward as small flashes of lightning flared from
his fingertips, encircled him, and then disappeared.
If she’d had any doubts that he was a wicáhmunga, they were alleviated by that show of magic. Seamus Morpeth had also had the touch of lightning, and he’d used it mercilessly during his brutal slaughter of her people. She had to escape before the wicáhmunga used his lightning touch on her!
Unfortunately, she was still on her knees, and he stood between her and the cave’s opening. By the time she got to her feet, he’d be prepared to stop her flight. She considered summoning the snakes, but she knew intuitively that he was now immune to them.
Damn! This was Wanága’s fault. If he hadn’t suddenly changed the rules on her, she would have destroyed the wicáhmunga when she had the chance. Now there was only one final option left to her. No one knew where the triangle was but her, and if he couldn’t get the location from her mind, he’d never find it.
She leaped to her feet and took a couple of running steps forward. As she’d expected, he immediately moved to block the opening. When he did, she spun around and ran toward the back of the cave, mentally ordering, Willow. Come!
The snake slithered out of the shadows, and the moment Sarah reached her, she bent and snatched her pet up with her hands.
Bringing Willow’s head toward her, Sarah raised her chin, exposing the pulse point at her neck to her pet. Then she commanded, Strike me!
WHEN SARAH RACED toward the back of the cave and grabbed her snake, Sebastian smiled smugly. Mortals were so damn predictable. He’d known she’d rely on the rattler for protection. What she didn’t know was that the reptile was no longer a threat to him. As inexplicably as it had disappeared his magic had returned, and he’d already cast a protective spell over himself.
You also won another major victory, that inner voice chimed in. You turned her seduction against her and taught her the consequences of playing sex games with a warlock.
Sebastian frowned, uncomfortable with that observation. It wasn’t that he’d turned the tables on her that bothered him. It was that he’d carried the act too far. It was as if some primitive part of him had taken over, and the need to debase her had overridden all other thoughts. Such a deed was not only wrong . . . it went against his nature. So why had he done it?
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