Ridge shrugged. “You can have them. You may not want to raise them. Many Majae put their children up for adoption on Mortal Earth. That way the child has a chance of a reasonably happy life, without ever knowing about the one-in-a-hundred chance of winning the genetic lottery.”

  “And that’s the real reason Lancelot made no attempt to contact my mother.”

  “Yeah, that would be it.”

  After Kat ate, she and Ridge retreated to his bedroom. “Sun’ll be coming up in an hour,” he told her. “I’ll go into the Daysleep then.”

  Kat nodded. Grace had told her vampires had to sleep during the day as their bodies recharged. They needed the magical energies of the Mageverse every bit as much as blood.

  Ridge stepped closer and drew her into his arms. “But I’ve found over the years,” he purred, “you can do a lot in an hour.”

  EIGHT

  Ashaft of rose light woke Kat. She opened her eyes to the sight of a glowing stained-glass window, apparently designed to render the sunlight safe to vampire skin.

  She blinked sleepily, enjoying the play of color through the muscular unicorn the window depicted. Roses wreathed its thick blue neck as it pranced through a sunlit wood to greet a blond lady in a long medieval gown in dark blue and gold. Ivy twined up the great animal’s spiral horn. The woman looked as besotted with the unicorn as he did with her no-doubt virginal self.

  Kat sympathized. She felt pretty besotted herself.

  Turning on her side, she gazed down into Ridge’s sleeping face, painted in glowing color in the window’s light. He appeared younger asleep, his handsome features relaxed, almost boyish. A curl of dark hair brushed his forehead. His shoulders looked very broad and tanned against the soft linen sheets.

  He’d made such slow, sweet love to her the night before. When they’d come, she’d seen magic burst around them like a fireworks display, though thankfully there had been no horrific visions.

  Today they would make love for the third time. Chances were she’d come into her full Gift then. Ridge had said sometimes it took more than three times, though never less.

  Kat almost found herself hoping it would be more, because afterward, Ridge would have no reason to stay.

  Would he?

  Settling onto her elbow, she frowned uneasily at the thought. Was she allowing herself to get too involved? As supportive as he’d been, she was nothing more than an assignment to him. A pleasant assignment, maybe, but still, just another mission, like all his others over six decades as a vampire of Avalon.

  But Kat knew she would not forget him. Ever. She’d never had a lover like him, and it wasn’t just the biting—which was a hell of a lot more fun than she ever would have thought. Nor was it simply his lovemaking, spectacular and life-changing though it was.

  It was the look on his face when he’d seen her fear for her mother, the compassion in his eyes when she’d told him about her sister’s death. And the way he’d held her before the sun came up, his arms warm and strong. As if she were something precious.

  As if she were more than an assignment.

  Ridge stirred, green eyes slowly opening. The sun must have set.

  He smiled the moment he saw her, a lazy, sated curve of the lips, and stretched, his beautiful torso arching as he extended brawny arms. He caught her waist and tumbled her down across his chest. “That was a serious look you were wearing when I opened my eyes.”

  “Thinking.”

  “You know, if it’s about your sister, you don’t have to go through with this.” His gaze turned serious. “I’m sure Lance and Grace would be happy to help me track that bastard down and take care of him. You’d have your closure.”

  Kat studied him. “But I thought you guys needed the reinforcements.”

  “Yeah, but as I told you last night, there’s a price to pay, and it’s pretty steep. You can still back out.”

  She hesitated. “No, actually, I can’t. I need to do this, Ridge. That monster murdered my sister, destroyed my childhood, and drove my mother crazy. I want to get the bastard myself. I have to.”

  Then a new thought struck. Kat tilted her head, considering it. “And too, there’s the way Grace saved my mother. If I had that kind of ability, I could keep people from suffering the way I did. I could stop bastards like my sister’s killer before they had the chance to ruin so many lives. That’s worth a little sacrifice.”

  Ridge nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ve always thought so. I’ve never regretted becoming Magekind because we do so much good. But it’s not a choice to make casually.”

  “I’m not making it casually.” Kat bent down and kissed him slowly, thoroughly, before lifting her head again. “But I am making it.”

  Ridge smiled. One big hand lifted to trace the line of her cheekbone. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

  Kat blinked at the change of subject. “Umm.”

  “Guess not.” He caught her by the back of the head and drew her down. “You are”—he breathed against her mouth—“incredibly beautiful. Those big, smoky eyes, those soft lips . . .” He kissed her, taking his time, a slow seduction of tongue and teeth and lip, teasing, yet so gentle her breath caught. His fingers traced the line of her jaw, the rounded curve of her chin, and came to rest on her pulse, pounding hard in her throat.

  Kat moaned, shivering a little at the sweet pleasures he spun with his lips, his tongue, his long fingers, the motions so delicate, yet producing such intense sensations.

  “You’re good,” she panted. “Damn, you’re so good.”

  He smiled as he nibbled his way down toward her breasts. “You’re so inspiring.”

  When his mouth found her nipple, the pure, intense delight drew her spine into a bow. He rumbled in response to her hot reaction and settled down to lick, tongue swirling, teeth gently raking. She bit her lip and let her eyes drift closed.

  God, it really did feel incredible. Each sensation seemed more intense than it ever had before, as if her every cell had become sensitized to his touch.

  He gave one nipple a delicate nibble, using just enough tooth, just enough pressure. Swirls of candied heat made her writhe. Unable to help herself, she twined her legs around his waist and rocked her hips slowly against his. She felt his cock jutting ferociously hard against her soft belly. Seduced, Kat reached between them and wrapped her fingers around the shaft. Warm satin over steel. She moaned in anticipation.

  Ridge growled something, a hot male rumble of encouragement. Kat continued to explore. The head of the big organ felt like velvet, soft and a little nubby. A slick tear of arousal met her fingertips, and she smeared it over the hot tip. He sucked in a breath.

  And rolled with her, tumbling her onto her back. He rose, spread her legs with his big hands, started to lower his head. “Sixty-nine,” Kat managed to gasp.

  The sound he made was so raw and ripe with anticipation, she shuddered. Ridge rearranged himself, head down along her body, giving her access to the hard jut of his shaft. She wrapped one hand around it, angled it downward, and sucked the round, warm head into her mouth. Salty, musky, a little astringent, but so deliciously, utterly male.

  Best of all, it was Ridge—Ridge who had comforted her, who had offered the solid support of his strength through the nightmare of her mother’s latest meltdown. Ridge, with his powerful body and kind eyes.

  Kat opened her mouth wide and raised her head, sucking him in, taking him so deep, her throat muscles clenched in discomfort. She didn’t care. Closing her lips tight around the smooth satin shaft, she suckled in long, rippling pulls, intent on giving him pleasure.

  He made a strangled sound of agonized delight. Kat grinned a little smugly around him.

  And then male fingers spread her delicate lower lips, and his tongue found sensitive flesh. She almost jolted into orbit herself.

  His tongue circled her clit, tracing tiny, delicate patterns. His dark hair tickled the inside of her thighs as he worked, an extra flourish of delight.

  With a purring hum
of pleasure, Kat suckled, one hand cuddling the soft furry pouch of his balls, the other sliding up and down his shaft. Losing herself in the sweet eroticism of his cock, his mouth, his tongue.

  Losing herself in him.

  Ridge looked up along her body, watching the play of smooth muscle in her belly, the flex of those strong thighs as she writhed under his touch. He gave her a slow lick, dancing his tongue around her clit as he slid a finger inside her. She was hot, deliciously wet, snugly tight. His cock twitched in hungry anticipation. She rewarded it with another mind-blowing suckle and swirl that made the muscles in his legs jerk and his toes twitch.

  He shuttered his eyes and watched the magic dance. Sparks of it eddied around them to his vampire vision as her body readied itself for the Gift. Ridge could almost taste it, foaming like champagne on his tongue.

  His beautiful, magic Kat. So damn young, yet with such ancient eyes. The same pain and tragedy that had broken her mother had made her strong, tempered her like a sword blade in a forge.

  I’m in love with her.

  The thought sliced through his mental guard, ringing with truth. He caught his breath, half in fear, half in sheer, dazzled delight. The smell of her filled his senses, her taste flooded his mouth. He felt intoxicated. Kat-drunk.

  And Ridge knew in that moment that he had to find a way to keep her. Letting her get away was just not an option, any more than he could live without oxygen.

  His lips peeled back from his teeth, and he jolted back onto his heels. His cock protested losing the delightful contact with her mouth, but he ignored it, grabbed her by the hips, and pulled her around until their bodies were aligned.

  “Ridge!” She laughed, catching his wrists as he spread her legs wide.

  He caught his cock in hand, aimed for her rosy, glistening opening, and thrust his way home.

  “Ridge!” Her beautiful eyes widened, but not in pain. “Oh, God!”

  Half-crazed from a need that was far more than a craving for release, he began to thrust in long, sawing drives of his cock, plunging in and out. She felt so incredibly slick and tight as she gripped him, the friction glorious. He wasn’t sure he could hold on, but he was damned well going to try.

  Teeth gritted against the pleasure, Ridge bucked against her. And with every thrust, magic gathered around them in a hot dance of light.

  Head spinning at the sheer feral sensation of his cock plunging inside her, Kat clung to Ridge’s sweating shoulders. She felt a savage pressure building, coiling tighter and tighter inside her belly, until she had to writhe. Her legs coiled around his hips, tightening instinctively, dragging her hips harder against his, seeking that last bit of sweet friction.

  Something flashed at the edges of her vision. Automatically, Kat’s eyes shifted to track the glow. The small golden orb promptly exploded like a silent skyrocket, spilling sparks over her skin. She gasped at the hot pinpricks of pleasure.

  Ridge kept thrusting. He felt huge, a thick, tunneling possession that pulled and twisted at her inner flesh, filling her utterly. More fireballs appeared, popping like bubbles, spilling bright sparks over them both.

  Kat yowled as his cock drove deep and magic showered her skin.

  He nuzzled her throat. She automatically tilted her chin, knowing what he wanted. Giving him access.

  Ridge bit deep, his fangs sinking into her flesh even as he drove to his full length in her sex. He stiffened, coming as he drank.

  And the world detonated.

  The magic burst from Ridge, a searing explosion that triggered an answering burst in Kat. Fire blazed up from deep inside her every cell, a silent whirling detonation. Clinging helplessly to his broad shoulders, she watched the room disappear into dazzle, as if a small sun had suddenly exploded right in the center of her chest. Heat seared her, as intense and furious as the pleasure of her orgasm.

  Magic shot between them like a fountain, spearing through Ridge’s chest and out her back, then arching around to pierce Kat again. Growing brighter with every circuit until it formed a blazing loop of energy.

  Suddenly she could feel what he felt—every pulse of his cock, the tight creamy grip of her own sex, the rake of her nails down his back. Something seemed to click between them, locking down, linking them mind to mind, heart to heart.

  Kat screamed, a long, singing note of pleasure and pain as the magic built and built and built. She barely heard Ridge’s answering howl.

  he birth of Kat’s power thundered in Ridge’s ears like the roar of tornado-force winds. He could only wrap both arms around her and hold on for dear life. Her blood filled his mouth as her sex milked his cock, and he writhed.

  Never in his life had he felt anything like this.

  Then it all just . . . stopped. The eye-searing energy disappeared, leaving him clinging blindly to her lithe, sweat-slick body. Kat fell limp under him, her strong legs releasing their desperate hold, her fingers relaxing their grip on his shoulders. His skin stung, and he suspected she’d dug her nails deep.

  “My God.” She gasped. They were both panting. “What the hell was that?”

  Ridge gently disengaged his fangs from her throat and licked the blood away. “That,” he said, his voice hoarse, “was magic. You’re a Maja now, Kat Danilo.”

  NINE

  Kat lay dazzled and panting. With a last, sated groan, Ridge collapsed beside her. She could feel his pleasure echoing in her own body like a deep thrum in her cells. Incredible. She wasn’t sure if it was his thought or her own. Never felt anything like that.

  Magic swirled around her like dust motes in a shaft of sunlight, a dancing glitter. Half-hypnotized by the swirling patterns, she watched the tiny flashes dance around her head. Every time she inhaled, she breathed them in.

  Experimentally, Kat puffed out a breath. Magic rolled from her mouth in a glowing plume, reminding her of chilly childhood mornings when she’d watch her breath mist.

  “You look stoned.” Ridge rolled onto one elbow, watching her with an indulgent expression.

  “I feel stoned. Sort of . . . floating.” Kat frowned suddenly. “Is it real? The magic, I mean?”

  “Oh, yeah. I don’t see it often, but sometimes when it’s particularly dense, vampires can perceive it. And I’m told Majae see it all the time. After a while, you quit noticing it as much.”

  He looked different, she realized. Vivid, sharply solid. More real somehow. When she looked away, she could feel his presence like a low hum.

  As if he was a concentration of pure magic.

  A weaker hum came from a closed door across the room. “There’s something magic in the closet.”

  “Wouldn’t be surprised.” He yawned hugely.

  Curious, Kat rolled out of bed and swung the door open. A pile of metal objects lay heaped on the floor. Kneeling, she picked up a helmet, scorched and dented. There was a cuirass too, along with greaves, gauntlets, and other assorted bits of armor. All of it was blackened, as if it had been through a fire, and most of the pieces showed dents and smears of old blood.

  “I should have cleaned and repaired it, but I didn’t have the heart. Some bad memories there.” Ridge said from behind her.

  “You were hurt.” She could feel the magical echo of old wounds, a reverberation of pain in her own flesh.

  “Not as bad as some.” His voice was grim. “I lived.”

  The flow of magic in the dented helm seemed to be disrupted. Acting on pure instinct, she fed her own power into it, straightening and reinforcing the flow. Light swirled around the helm, and the dents disappeared, leaving it gleaming as if brand-new again.

  “Cool!” Kat looked around at Ridge, surprised. “It wants to be whole. I wonder if I could fix it all . . . ” Extending her hands over the pile of battered armor, she concentrated, sending a wave of magic swirling over it.

  When she dropped her hands again, it was all repaired and shining. “Damn. That was . . . surprisingly easy.” Kat cocked her head, considering the pile, mentally tracing the smooth flow of magic. “
All I had to do was straighten the kinks in the energy patterns, and everything popped right back out.”

  “Can you make armor of your own?” He knelt beside her and lifted a long sword out of the pile, then handed it to her. “Creating the stuff’s a bit harder.”

  “You mean copy it? Maybe scaled to fit me?” She weighed the big blade in her hands. It was well-balanced, but definitely made for a vampire’s strength. Too heavy for her by far. Transferring the weapon to her left hand, she bit her lip and concentrated. Magic swirled into her right hand, formed a column of light, solidified.

  The new blade was shorter, lighter. She handed Ridge the original, then extended the copy, weighing it in her hands. The balance was a little off. She dissolved it and tried again. Better, but still off. Tried again until she was satisfied.

  “What do you think?” She handed the sword to Ridge.

  He took it, held it at full extension, then gave it a slow swing, careful in the limited space. “Good work.” Handing it back, he eyed her. “You know how to use that?”

  Kat nodded. “My sensei taught me a little kendo, and I fenced competitively in college. I’m not a knight, but I know which end of the blade goes in the target.”

  Next she tackled the armor, dragging magic in and pouring it out, following the patterns of force in Ridge’s armor. It was, she thought, a bit like singing a song someone else had written. Her first try at a full suit was a bit misshapen, but she kept working, destroying the suit and recreating it until she was satisfied.

  Finally Kat stepped up to the full-length mirror and considered her gleaming reflection. Her head ached from the effort of all that ferocious concentration, but at least the thing looked right. The armored plates followed the contours of her body, and the joints matched her own, with no gaps to allow a weapon to penetrate. She twisted back and forth to test the armor’s flexibility. And smiled in satisfaction. It was light as construction paper, but strong as the steel it appeared to be.

  So she’d passed the first test she’d set herself. “Okay, now let’s try the hard part.” She reached down the gorget of her armor and drew out the silver locket she’d been wearing for days now. Concentrated.

  “Uhh, Kat . . . ” Ridge said uneasily.

  She ignored him, all her focus on pouring magic into the locket and listening to the returning echo of energy. First came a familiar scent she hadn’t smelled in so many years, she’d almost forgotten it.

  Kat found herself smiling. “Cherry lip gloss and my mother’s Nicole perfume. My sister always filched Mom’s perfume when she went out.”

  Then another odor cut through the familiar smell. Like the smell of dog fur, only ranker, tinged with the copper taint of blood and the nauseating reek of death. Kat sent more magic pouring into the necklace. “Show me. Let me see him!”

  At first nothing happened. She gritted her teeth and concentrated harder on the killer’s feral reek.

  “Are you sure you should try to do this now?” Ridge’s green eyes narrowed in worry.

  “No, but I have to do it anyway.” Her heart raced with a sense of urgency. “I’ve got this really bad feeling.” As if something horrible was going to happen if she didn’t act now.

  The scent vanished. “Shit! I’ve lost it.”

  “Don’t try to force the magic.” Ridge dropped a hand on her armored shoulder, encouraging her to meet his eyes. “It’s like fighting. If you overthink it, you get in your own way.”

  That made sense, thanks to all those years of martial arts training. She forced rigid muscles to loosen, then sent her magic rolling into the locket again.

  A woman shrieked. Kat jumped, eyes snapping wide. “That’s real. That’s happening now!”

  Somewhere, Karen’s killer was closing in on another victim.

  Ridge bent to jerk his jeans off the floor. “We’ve got to get to her.” He stepped into the pants, jerked them up his legs, zipped, grabbed his sword. “Open a dimension gate.”

  “How the hell . . . Oh.” She remembered the swirling iris of magic Grace had created, the rippling sensation as she’d stepped through. Gathering her magic, Kat sent it pouring into the air.

  It began as a single glowing point that rapidly expanded into a swirling opening that showed a view of moonlit trees.

  Another scream rang out, raw with pure panic.

  “Bloody hell,” Ridge snarled, and leaped through the gate. Kat shot after him, praying the dimensional door wouldn’t dissolve with them halfway through.

  Leaves crunched underfoot as they landed, and she puffed out a relieved breath. Still dressed in her conjured armor, Kat lifted the sword she held. Ridge had grabbed his own blade before he jumped, but he wore only the jeans. She bit her lip and concentrated, but his armor did not appear. “Nothing’s happening!”

  “We’re on mortal Earth,” he hissed back, scanning the night with narrow eyes. “Magic doesn’t work as easily here. Try again.”

  Kat sought her magic again. After a moment she found it: a thin, burning thread glowing inside her mind, instead of surrounding her as it did in the Mageverse.

  No wonder magic was harder to use here.

  Reaching deep, Kat concentrated ferociously on the armor she’d repaired. Called it.

  And watched in satisfaction as it swirled into being around Ridge, covering him in magical steel.

  He didn’t even look down to watch it appear, instead tilting his head back, inhaling deeply as if seeking a scent. “This way.” He set off, moving swiftly and silently through the woods.

  Another scream rang out, and he broke into a run, bounding through the night with a vampire’s blurring speed. Kat conjured a light and raced after him in its bobbing glow.

  Ridge grabb