by Hall, Linsey
“How? And why are you telling only me and not Cadan?”
Esha eased the door closed. “Cadan and Warren—that’s Cadan’s boss, by the way—both know who you were. Cadan won’t tell you, Warren won’t tell me. The only other people who know are Aerten, Warren’s boss, and Lea, the Historian. You met her when you first came to the university, remember? Anyway, Aerten is too high ranking for me to contact, but Lea is my friend and gave me a few pertinent details.”
Diana felt a scowl crease her forehead at the confirmation that Cadan and this Warren guy were keeping things from her. Any control she tried to exert over her life was slipping through her fingers and they weren’t helping. “Why?”
“Because I asked her.”
“No, I mean why do you care who I was?” Diana doubted that Esha was a Good Samaritan intent on helping her discover herself.
“Something in the Edinburgh underground has gone wrong. Really wrong.”
Diana listened with a growing oh shit feeling as Esha explained her ability to sense evil and the afterworld hell that was trying to break loose from somewhere in Edinburgh’s underground.
“What hell did you say it is?” Diana asked.
“Erebus. I think that fixing the portal could be your task, and that you should come to me as soon as you remember who you were.”
“Why do you think it’s my task?”
“Because of which hell it is, and because of what Lea told me about your life. She said you’re a professor from America.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Diana asked.
Concern shone in Esha’s amber eyes. “I’m sorry, Diana. I don’t know if you actually knew her or not, but your colleague Vivienne Lawrence was abducted to Erebus a few days ago.”
The air rushed out of the room in a great gust, leaving Diana to sway on her feet. Vi? Abducted to the Roman afterworld?
“What?” Diana pressed her hand to her chest, trying to calm the sense that she was drowning.
“You knew her? I’m so sorry. Her soul was taken to hell while her body stopped at the portal. Her body couldn’t cross over because she’s mortal. She’s in a coma.”
“No. A coma? She can’t be. She’s safe in America, teaching my classes.”
“Maybe that’s where they nabbed her. They thought she was you, perhaps.”
Oh, God. She was directly responsible for Vi’s abduction. And her coma.
“She won’t wake up?” Diana asked.
“Not unless her soul is returned. And even then, I don’t know if it’s possible to revive her. Most mortals wouldn’t have survived. They’d die immediately at the portal.”
Diana stumbled backward to the bed. Sat. The sword tumbled from her loose fingers.
“I can get her back. How do I get her back?” A panicked sob strangled in Diana’s throat at the idea of Vi’s soul trapped in hell.
“I don’t know if you can. I don’t know why they took her, but it’s a clear link to you and suggests that this is your task. If it is, maybe there is some way you can save her.”
Diana nodded blindly. She could do this. She had to do this.
“If you can figure out who you were,” Esha said, “and if it turns out that the portal is your task, I can help you with it. I would bet a million pounds that this is why you were brought back. I shouldn’t be helping you, but I’ve never liked following the rules.”
Diana drew in a shuddering breath and looked Esha in the eyes. She looked tough, and she looked serious. And she had some major connections in this crazy new world. She’d need her. Vi would need her.
Especially if Cadan and this Warren guy were going to go all alpha male on her and stand in her way. She was going to need an ally.
“All right.” Diana forced her voice to be level as she held out her hand. “Deal. And…thank you for telling me. For helping me. For trusting me.”
“It was shitty news. I’m sorry.” Esha looked down at the Chairman, who’d nudged her with his head. He was looking pointedly at the door. “Someone is coming up the stairs. I’ve got to go. But hurry. This is only getting worse. Do whatever you can to figure this out. Whatever you can.”
Esha pressed a card into Diana’s palm. Then they disappeared.
Diana was staring blindly at the floor when Cadan knocked on the door a minute later.
“Everything all right?” he said as he walked through the doorway. “I thought I heard something.”
Diana raised her head to meet his eyes, knowing that her face reflected the bleakness within her.
“Ah, Diana, what’s wrong?” There was something in his eyes, some pain or longing she couldn’t recognize, that made her breath catch in her lungs. Like he hurt for her or wanted to fix her. Maybe both. But the way he stared at her, as if she were someone, could steal the very heart from her. She’d never been the recipient of such a stare, or of such intensity.
Yet he hid things from her. Things that were so vital they’d killed her friend. Or as good as.
“Why did you hide the importance of Verulamium from me?” she asked.
“I dinna.”
She had no idea if she should believe him or not. “But you’re trying to keep me from discovering who I was. I’m certain of it. It’s because of my past, isn’t it? You’ve got a stake in this whole thing, but I’ve got no idea what it is.”
He dragged a hand across his face, then spun around and stalked toward the window. His big hand gripped the wooden sill so tightly that the tension radiated down his arm, making the muscles and veins stand out in harsh relief.
He’s hiding something. She was certain of it now. But what it might be terrified her. She cared for him, hated that he pulled away from her, but was afraid she knew the reason why.
She approached him, determined to force the truth from him if necessary. So much depended on it. She wanted to tell him about Vivienne, but didn’t think she should reveal her connection to Esha. If he was working against her, she’d need Esha more than ever.
She laid a hand on the bunched muscles of his shoulder, all too aware of the latent strength of the man she was cornering. “You’re becoming someone to me, Cadan. And you know the answers that I’m seeking. I’m running out of time to discover them on my own. You’ve got to tell me what you’re hiding. Why you’re hiding it.”
“Leave it, Diana.” Cadan turned and took a step toward the door, desperate to get out of there before he did something he regretted, but she grabbed his arm and jerked him to a stop in front of her.
“No.” She glared up at him, her hands tightening their grip on his arm. “Tell me why you’ve lied, damn it. Tell me why you get close to me, kiss me, then stop and storm off. It’s because of what you know, isn’t it?”
She wanted to know the whole, horrible story? That she tempted him with every move she made, reminded him of all that he’d lost? Made him think that everything could be better with her, except that if he went for it, it would all crumble to dust around him with her death?
Nay. These things he would not tell her. But helpless to stop himself, he cupped the back of her head and drew her to him, so close that he could almost feel her. The scant inch of air between their bodies vibrated with tension. Her scent washed over him, arresting and familiar, and the feel of her, the heat of her, stole the caution from his mind and tore the words from his throat.
“You want to know why I’ve lied?”
She nodded, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide. Desperation and fear glimmered in their depths.
“Because I want you, damn it. I care for you. I’ve never been able to stop, no’ for thousands of years. But I can never have you.”
Desperate and crazed, he pulled her to him and crushed his mouth to hers. He kissed her with the fierceness and desperation of a man who had everything to lose and knew that it was already gone.
When she threw her arms about his neck, he clutched her closer, sinking his hand into her hair and wrapping his arm about her waist.
Just a m
oment more.
Just a moment of this thing he could never have. This person. He thrust his tongue between her lips, desperate to imprint her taste upon his mind. She was sweet and soft beneath his lips, everything he’d longed for and more than he’d ever expected. More than he could have. Three times he’d failed to keep his distance. Three times, yet it would have to be enough. He’d have to make it enough.
He pulled away, leaving her flushed.
He couldn’t resist her.
It was ridiculous to have thought he could. Yet the proof of his weakness was still hot on his lips, beneath his hands. One more encounter like this, and he wouldn’t be able to stop. And she would remember her past.
He made up his mind. He’d call Warren, have another Mythean Guardian assigned to her.
He stepped back. “No more.” He shook his head, then turned to stride out of the room. “No more.”
But only he could hear the words.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Diana barely restrained herself from chucking the book at the wall. It was the last of the books in Cadan’s library that might have something to do with her past. And it had been useless.
Which had come as no surprise, by this point. Books wouldn’t work, and visiting Verulamium had only told her that she had been one of the female warriors at the battle of Watling Street, but not which one. To ancient written history, they were nobodies. Her answers weren’t in books, as she’d proven today in a last-ditch effort to find something.
She leaned back in the chair and glared at the clock. Nearly nine at night and she was no closer to figuring out who she’d been or to saving Vivienne.
She’d only seen Cadan once today, when they’d trained in his gym for several hours. He’d excelled at acting like everything was normal when it so obviously was not. She’d tried to ask him questions about what he’d said last night, but he’d deflected them, ignoring her. Ignoring everything.
But he wasn’t just her protector. He was a link to her past. He was part of her past. And there was a very good chance that he was the man from her dream.
The idea that the man she’d come to care for was the same one who’d betrayed her sent a cold shiver through her. But if it was him—which she wasn’t entirely sure of—why had he locked her up like that? And did it have anything to do with why she’d been reborn?
Diana set the book down on the table and leaned back in the chair to think. She had to find out, but when she’d asked earlier today, he’d deflected her questions like she was a fly on his arm. He’d been avoiding her, and it seemed like he was going to keep it up. Letting him do so wouldn’t save Vivienne or get herself out of this mess.
But her previous approaches to figuring this all out weren’t working. She tapped her fingers against her chin. If only there was a way to get Cadan to willingly tell her everything that he knew.
And then a horrible, wonderful, terrifying idea popped into her mind. No, it was idiotic. Crazy.
But he did want her. And she wanted him. More importantly, she was desperate and at the end of her options. Insane as it was, it might work.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cadan felt himself surface from a sleep as deep as death. As his eyes adjusted in the dark, he reached up to rub them, but his arms jerked to a halt.
Leather straps bit into his wrists.
The fog of sleep dissipated immediately and he jerked on the bonds. They held tight.
Why the fuck was he chained to his bed? More importantly, where was Diana? Had she been kidnapped?
Shite. Heart pounding in his chest, he roared, “Diana!”
“Oh, you’re awake.” The voice came from the side of the bed. He wasn’t alone, and though it sounded like Diana, the voice was throatier, sexier. She sounded like a woman who had just awakened after being fucked long and hard during the night. He wanted to be the one making her sound like that.
Cadan turned his head toward the voice and nearly swallowed his tongue when Diana rose from a chair by the bed, clad in nothing but scraps of lace that cupped supple flesh. The pale pink covered her breasts, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of large pink nipples. A thousand times better than he’d imagined.
His eyes were dragged downward and his breath caught. The curls at the juncture of her thighs were the same beautiful shade as those on her head. He ached to touch her there. To taste.
He jerked his gaze up to hers. “Diana,” he whispered hoarsely. “Come here. Untie me.”
Let me put my hands on you.
How had he thought to resist her? He strained against the bonds, desperate to have his hands, his mouth, on her. To tear away the scraps of lace and make her his in a way that she would never forget.
Nay. Resist her.
She just shook her head. “No, don’t struggle. They’re the Maoin straps, so you can’t get out.”
She placed one knee on the bed, then began to crawl toward him, her heavy hair hanging over her shoulder and her eyes hot. Dark deeds flashed in her eyes and his cock leapt.
Was he dreaming? This was straight out of his fantasies, but when he jerked on the straps that bound him to the bed, it became clear that this was very much real life. Diana reached him then, the sultry smell of her skin, her hair, her pussy reaching inside him to squeeze.
She straddled his stomach and looked down at him. The heat of her sex burned him.
She rested her hands on his chest and began to rub her thumbs across his nipples. Goosebumps broke out on his flesh where she touched him, lightly trailing her fingers over his chest.
To have her so close and not be able to touch and taste? Torture.
Focus, Cadan. “What in the hell are you doing, lassie? How the hell did you get me tied up?”
“I called Esha. She gave me a sleeping spell for you. Some powder, like pixie dust, that I had to blow into your room after you’d fallen asleep. I didn’t want you waking up while I fastened the straps.”
He tried to keep his eyes on hers, but they were drawn down her body once again. She was ethereally pale, with small breasts and a trim waist that flared into beautiful hips. Freckles dotted her shoulders and chest.
Who was this woman? “What in the hell are you doin’?”
His cock was painfully stiff, so hard that it strained against her ass. He yanked at the bonds again, but they didn’t budge.
“I’ll tell you, but first, I want to know something.”
“Aye?”
“You like me, right?”
“Nay, lassie, this hard-on has nothing to do with you.”
“You know what I mean.” She looked down at him uncertainly.
Ah, his lassie needed reassurance. As much as he knew he shouldn’t admit it, that he should be cruel to end this game, he couldn’t bear to see the hesitant smile slip off her face. His brain had flown straight out of his head.
Knowing that he would regret it, he said, “Aye, lassie, I do. There’s no’ another like you.”
Her smile brightened. “Likewise.”
“Now tell me what this is about.” He had a pretty good idea, even though it shocked the hell out of him.
“You know who I was in a past life. I don’t. And I really, really need to know. I’ve run out of time and options, so I think you should tell me.”
Shite. That wasn’t what he was expecting. “And how do you plan for that to happen?”
“I think you know.” She smiled. “Have you ever been tortured, Cadan?”
His jaw clenched when she rubbed her sex against him. “No’ like this.”
She smiled. “Well, you get the gist of it anyway. I’m going to bring you to the brink so many times your eyes will cross. When you tell me who I was, you can have anything you want.”
She reached behind her and grasped his cock in her small hand. He nearly shouted with pleasure, then desperately clenched his teeth to stifle himself.
“I doona want you.” Gods, he was lying. He wanted her more than anything in the world. He wanted her in every way possible
, pinned beneath him, his to take.
But more than anything, he wanted her now, this way. With him tied to the bed and her on top of him, taking whatever she wanted from his body. Use me. Take your pleasure from me. His hips jerked at the thought and she ran her soft palm up and down his length.
“You, Cadan, are a terrible liar. And you’re my terrible liar.”
Aye, yours. As you are mine. He wanted her to take her pleasure from him, untie him, and then he would show her what it meant to be his. But he couldn’t, could never, and for everything in the past and future, he had to resist. But how?
And where had this temptress come from?
When Diana laughed he realized he’d spoken aloud. “I was always here. You saw me—young and a professor, reserved in my manners—and drew your own conclusions. They just weren’t necessarily true. You’re dating yourself again, Cadan. True, I’ve never tied up a man and had my way with him before, so I’m no expert, but I think I can figure it out.”
With those words, she bent down and began to kiss his neck, her soft, hot tongue running across the tendons as he strained. Only now did he realize that the room was lit by dozens of candles.
She rubbed her breasts against his chest and he strained at the bonds. He wanted just one touch. To put his hands on her smooth skin and run them over the curves and hollows of her body.
She ran her warm lips down his chest, rising up on all fours as she did so, curved and soft in the light. She was careful not to touch his cock now, though it desperately reached for her.
“You have the most amazing muscles,” she murmured against his clenched abs.
With a lick, she continued to kiss her way down his body, her mouth hot and avid on him. He tensed as she neared his cock, but she skipped over, raining soft kisses over his thighs and within inches of his balls. He groaned when he felt her breath feather over him and looked down to see her staring up at him.
