He swallowed. “I know. Maybe you’d better drive.”
“Drive? I can’t. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the road. All of a sudden, I’m overwhelmingly aware of how large you are.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “How tightly corded your muscles are. You’re beautiful, Cenrick of Rune. And I want you.”
Each husky murmur acted like oil poured on his fire. Staring back at her, he clenched his gloved hands to keep from touching her. He could feel his pulse, heavy and urgent, his body, thick and ready.
“I—.” He tried to articulate a warning, but couldn’t speak.
“Damned if I’m not,” she licked her lips, the quick, sexy movement sending his heartbeat into overdrive, “aroused as hell.”
Unable to help himself, he moved closer. “Touch me,” he growled, his face inches from hers.
She shook her head, then reached out her hand to do as he asked anyway.
He had to warn her. This wasn’t real. This was a magical rebound. Now, with his magic channeled into his libido, the overflow must be radiating from him, affecting her too.
This wasn’t real. She didn’t want him, not really.
But dragon’s lair, how he wanted her.
He opened his mouth to tell her the truth. She kissed him instead. As her lips moved over his, he felt himself sinking into need. He wanted to refuse her, to help her resist, but he couldn’t make himself push her away. Merely being kissed by her made him more aroused than he’d even been in his life.
Somehow, he broke free. “Dee—.”
“I want to climb all over you, take you inside me, swallow you up whole.” She sounded stunned, amazed, and excited, all at once.
“Dee—.” He tried again.
But she climbed on top of him, settling herself on his swollen arousal. Even through his braes, he could feel her warmth.
Damnation.
He shuddered, pushing himself against her, before he managed to get himself under control.
“Stop,” he said, his voice ragged.
“I can’t.” Again she moved her body, nearly shredding the last tattered remnants of his self-control.
“Dragon’s blood.” Cursing, he lifted her off and pushed her away.
“Stay there.” He bit out the words. “This is not you or me. It’s magic.”
“Magic. Hmmm. okay.” She kissed his hand, her tongue doing things with his finger that had him longing to rip off the gloves. “I’ll show you magic. If you won’t let me on top, you come here.”
“No! Look away from me, open your window, and breathe. Please.”
Humoring him, she did as he requested.
He punched the button to lower his own window and following his own advice.
The moon seemed brighter than normal. He could even make out the shape of the craters on the surface. That was odd. And the stars twinkled brightly, like well-cut diamonds on black velvet.
“Are we done?” she asked. She sounded more like Dee, less like the seductive siren.
“No. Not yet. Keep breathing. Concentrate on the moon.” Following his own advice, he could hear her doing the same.
Gradually, the urgent desire that had overwhelmed him vanished.
“Cenrick?” Dee sounded confused. “What just happened? We… I.. why did we…?” Her voice faltered. She looked away, her color high. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.” He gave her as succinct an explanation as possible, ending with his own apology.
“That’s great.” She made a sound, something between a snort and a sigh. “I’m afraid to look at you or touch you. That was intense. What if the need comes slamming back?”
“It won’t,” he promised, hoping he wasn’t wrong. Exhaling, she massaged the back of her neck. “Okay, that’s over. Now what?”
Now he felt an overwhelming exhaustion. A need to sleep so strong he could barely keep his eyes open. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some rest.”
“Yeah.” She put the car into drive and pulled slowly around the building, then back onto the street. “Do you have a place to stay?”
Before he could respond, she shook her head. “Of course you don’t. Looks like you’re sleeping at my place.”
She sounded so apprehensive, he couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks. And maybe in the morning we can come up with a better plan.”
“Yeah.” Her sideways look was laced with speculation. “But first, we need to figure out what
happened to you back there at Mick’s? Did that Soul-stealer thing’s influence extend to you, even outside the house?”
“Yes.” He made the admission grimly. “Whatever it was, it reached right inside of me and attempted to rip out my core. Pretty powerful stuff. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think.”
“If it’s a machine, they must have had it turned all the way up. That would explain how those two other Fae were able to walk. They must have waited until they were inside to turn it on.”
And made them soulless.
Neither could say the words.
Still not entirely convinced of her machine theory, he frowned. “Since it’s obvious Mick’s involved up to his neck, I’ll need to talk to him. My father will want him back in Rune as quickly as possible to stand trial.”
“But how can you approach him, when you get zapped like that?”
A muscle worked in his jaw. “That’s why we need a plan.”
“True.” Dee sighed. “One thing for sure, whatever this thing is in Mick’s house, it’s dangerous to you.”
“True. Except your touch seemed to somehow block the effects. I’d like to investigate that as well.”
“How is that possible? I don’t have magic. And if it’s a machine, like I think, that wouldn’t make sense.”
“I don’t know. Irregardless, I’ve got to stop that thing, and quickly.”
“We,” she corrected. “We’ve got to stop it. And I think I know how.” Fishing in her pocket, she pulled out her cell phone and punched in a speed dial code with one hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Mick. Even though all the evidence seems to point to him, there’s one small problem. He’s Fae too and he’s there. If that thing affected you outside, how can he shield himself from it? I want to talk to him, see if I can get him to meet with us off premises. And, I want to make sure he’s all right.”
He watched her call, knowing that if Mick was behind this atrocity, he’d have figured out a way to protect himself.
If not, it was probably already too late for Mick. Unless his cousin had developed some sort of shield, no Fae could withstand a direct hit against his magic like that and remain the same.
“No answer,” she said finally, clicking the cell phone closed. “That’s not good, but it’s not bad either.”
When he didn’t ask her to explain her logic, she did anyway. “At least that woman didn’t answer. I still think she’s behind all this.”
“An accomplish. Human, not Fae. We need to find out who she is.”
“Oh, I’ve already thought of that.” She pulled a small notepad from her console. “I wrote down the license plate number on the truck. It’s all I have to go on for now, but maybe if I run a trace I can figure out who she is.”
“How will you do that, since you don’t currently have access to the police computer network?”
Her grin was a thing of beauty, hitting him like a fist in the gut. “There’s always the internet. The amount of information you can learn on the web is amazing. Most times, we cops curse it because people can be so vulnerable, and not even know it. But now?” She shrugged. “After I catch some sleep, I think I can put my home computer to good use.”
They turned into a parking lot.
“Here we are,” she said. “Home.”
The place where she lived was not at all what he’d expected. The three-story, beige apartment building had been designed in a Southwestern style and was obviously an upscale community. Despite that, he co
uldn’t get over how each building looked exactly like the others in the huge complex. Made of wood, brick, and stone, they clustered together in a valley with several hundred other buildings. A sea of red tile roofs stretched as far as the eye could see.
She must have caught a glimpse of his expression. “What? You don’t like it?”
“It’s better than Jack’s place,” he admitted. “But still, pretty confining.”
With a shrug, she unlocked her front door, stepping
aside to let him go past her.
Still fighting exhaustion, he stumbled inside, stopping short in amazement.
Entering her living room was like entering another world. Was this the real Dee, hiding behind her professional and competent façade? If so, he suspected he might be in trouble. She already attracted him physically. The woman who’d decorated this room would be fascinating mentally as well.
The scent hit him first. Heady and sensual, making his head spin. Sandalwood? Vanilla? He wasn’t sure.
His second impression was visual – of vibrancy and comfort. Her huge, overstuffed brown sofa was covered in plush, jewel-toned pillows. Interesting little knick-knacks scattered around the room evoked other countries – from his travels in her world, he recognized India and Saudi Arabia, as well as Spain, Morocco, and Puerto Rico. This room welcomed him. This room felt like home.
He turned to stare at her, not bothering to hide his shock.
“Do you like it?” Flicking on the light, she closed the door, grinning at his baffled expression.
“Yes. I do.” Giving in to his fatigue, he crossed the room and tested the feel of her couch. He immediately sank. “Nice.”
“Glad to hear it, since that’s going to be your bed.” She flicked on a few more lights, and he saw her dining area was decorated similarly.
He eyed the sofa, doubting he’d fit. Maybe if he removed all the pillows.
She caught him looking and gave him a faint smile. “Come on, the kitchen is through here.” Touching one more switch, she led the way.
Curious, he followed her. Ah, here was an area that seemed more suited to the woman she presented to the world. A Spartan, utilitarian room that contained none of her personality and appeared to be seldom used. The pristine countertops were uncluttered. The sparkling white appliances looked brand new, and reminded him of the decorating magazines he’d seen his brother’s wife read.
The room looked as though she rarely set foot in it, which made no sense. She had to eat, didn’t she?
Opening the fridge, she peered inside. “You hungry? I’ve got enough for a couple of sandwiches.”
Suddenly, he realized he was starving. “Sure,” he said, watching as she reached into the refrigerator and withdrew lunchmeat, cheese, and bread. Placing all this on the counter, she went back and got two cans marked cola.
“Do you want bologna or ham?”
“No meat. Just cheese.”
“No meat? Why? Are you a vegetarian?”
“In a way.”
Seeming to accept this without comment, she carried the food to the table, slapped together a couple of sandwiches, and dumped a bag of potato chips on a paper plate. Then, handing him a can of cola, she popped the top, and took a long swallow. “Dig in.”
He eyed her sandwich, bulging with meat. Seeing this, she laughed.
“Your expression reminds me of how I used to feel in a new foster home when they served something weird for dinner. I’m guessing you don’t eat a lot of sandwiches, right?”
“True.” He couldn’t tell her he’d been pondering her rather than the meal. Her words made him imagine a younger, more vulnerable Dee. All her contradictions fascinated him.
He grabbed his dinner and took a bite. Chewing slowly, he watched her inhale her sandwich, several handfuls of chips, and her entire can of cola.
Meanwhile, he could barely keep his eyes open to finish his own meal.
“Great. Now I’m going to sleep.” She yawned, pushing herself out of the chair. “But first—.” Crossing to the wall, she picked up the phone and dialed. “Trying Mick again,” she mouthed. A moment later, she shook her head. “Still no answer. I’ll toss some blankets on the couch for you, then I’m going to bed.”
With a wave, she left him alone to the remnants of his sandwich, lights still on. He heard the sound of her bedroom door close, wondering he felt her absence so sharply.
Who knew? Scratching his head, he finished off his meal and then set about stripping the couch of pillows, and arranging his blankets.
Last, he turned off the lights.
As he lay there in the spice-scented darkness, again he pondered Dee. He’d never met anyone like her, human or Fae.
The face Dee presented to the world was no-nonsense and efficient. But her apartment felt like a harem, sensual and exotic.
He fell asleep dreaming of her veiled and dancing for him, the sheer fabric of her costume giving him tantalizing glimpse of creamy skin and toned legs.
* * *
Dee woke with a start, blinking at the bright light. She glanced at her alarm clock and groaned, shoving back the sheet and swinging her legs over the side out of reflex. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late again.
Abruptly, she froze, as the reality of her life came crashing back on her. She wasn’t going to be late. She even didn’t have a job to rush off to.
Even worse, she had a full-grown Faerie sleeping on her couch.
Ouch. She needed coffee. She wondered if the Fae drank coffee. One thing for sure, she wasn’t worth anything without her daily shot of caffeine.
Stepping into a pair of jean shorts and a tank top, she brushed her teeth, applied deodorant, and used a damp comb to tame her unruly short hair. Finally feeling ready enough to face Cenrick, she opened her bedroom door.
Damn thing creaked. She’d never noticed that before. Stepping quietly, she moved into the living room. Cenrick was up, sitting on her striped-down couch wearing – she averted her eyes hastily – absolutely nothing.
Oh. My. God.
“Er, excuse me.” Averting her eyes, she kept her back to him, aiming for the kitchen and the coffee maker.
Coffee. She needed coffee.
“Good morning,” Cenrick said. He sounded normal – completely unabashed.
Fumbling with the coffee filters, she nodded. “I, um, didn’t realize you weren’t dressed.”
“That’s all right.” He didn’t even sound concerned. “I always sleep in the nude.”
Measuring out coffee, she hoped the sounds she heard meant he was getting dressed.
“Hurry up, coffee,” she muttered.
“What?” Cenrick asked.
Unable to resist a quick look over her shoulder, she saw he’d replaced all the pillows back on the couch.
And, she goggled at him in disbelief, was still buck naked.
He met her eyes and grinned. Then, to her shocked consternation, began heading towards her.
Crap!
“No!” she yelped. “Hold on. Aren’t you forgetting something? Like your clothes?”
“Oh that.” He dismissed her concern with a shrug, leaning on the counter that separated her kitchen from the other room. “It’s warm this morning. No hurry. I’ll put them on later.”
“No, put them on now. Please.” She forced herself to meet his eyes, sternly ordering her own gaze to go no lower.
He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Why?”
The simple question floored her. “Because… because…” she sputtered. “I don’t like you walking around like that.”
He seemed equally surprised. “You don’t?”
“No.” The more she talked, the more flustered she grew. “Please. Get dressed.”
Shaking his head and muttering about the oddities of humans, he turned to do as she’d requested.
Sagging against the sink, she caught a quick glimpse of a perfect, male behind as he headed back towards the sofa, where he must have left his clothes.
Luckily her coffee-maker beeped, informing her the brew was ready. Hastily, she poured herself a mug full. Two heaping spoonfuls of creamer and two packets of artificial sweetener and she was good to go.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled the rich aroma before she took the first sip, prepared to savor the taste as she always did.
“I’ve never tried coffee.”
She jumped, splashing scalding coffee on her hand. Cenrick. He’d snuck up on her while she was distracted – and spoken from maybe three inches away from her ear – so close, his breath had actually tickled her.
Hastily she set her mug down and moved to the sink, running cold water on her poor hand.
“Don’t do that,” she snapped. Drying her hand on the dish towel, she snagged her cup and took another gulp. “You want coffee? You can have coffee.”
Without waiting for him to answer – in truth, her jittery reaction had probably shocked him – she plucked a second mug from the cabinet and filled it with coffee.
“Cream? Sugar? Artificial sweetener?” Taking a deep breath, she faced him.
“I don’t know.” He grinned at her, looking entirely too good with that lock of black hair falling over his forehead. “I’ll take it the same way you do, I suppose.”
She nodded, inwardly wincing. Though still half-naked, he’d complied with the spirit of her request to dress and put on his trousers, but no shirt or shoes. Seeing him, bare-chested and barefoot, looking completely at home less than three feet away in her kitchen, provided a better wake-up jolt than ten cups of caffeine.
She took another chug of coffee and grimaced when she realized she’d inadvertently drank from his. “Here.” Handing it to him, she tried to sound apologetic. “Most men take it black.”
Gaze locked on hers, he nodded. Raising the mug to his mouth, he drank, this throat working as he swallowed. Her mouth went dry. Damn.
Carefully, she moved past him, refilling her cup and then heading for the kitchen table. “Let’s talk.”
She pulled out a seat; he did the same, taking the chair across from her.
Cradling her mug in two hands, she sipped slowly. The niggling bit of desire she felt each time she looked at him made her decide to cut to the chase. “About Mick – I think I’ve come up with a workable plan.”
Missing Magic Page 7
