“No, it’s not.”
“What’s the plan, Ian? You’re not staying here.”
“No. I’m taking Regan to my cabin for the rest of the night. She’ll be safe there.” He rubbed his forehead, thinking hard. “But we’ve got to find some way of locating Margetta’s fortress. It’s damn time we went on the offensive.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing. Not sure how to get the job done, though, when there’s a powerful shielding mist problem like the one you described.” Stone met his gaze. “What about Regan? This should be up her alley. And I know the things the mastyrs have said, those bonded to blood roses. There always seems to be a task the pair must accomplish together. Maybe this is yours.”
“I don’t know,” Ian said. He didn’t want it to be true. He’d protect Regan for the time being, but as soon as it was safe, he wanted her back in Swanicott and for his own life to get back to normal.
Stone pressed him. “Think about it. Every blood rose couple has become a team. Look at Ethan and Samantha. Together, they rehabilitate Invictus pairs. We’ve been able to save realm-folk now because of Samantha’s blood rose gift.” He gestured to the south, in the general direction of Swanicott Realm. “And Olivia can shield Zane besides creating a Zephyr wind in battle. Maybe you and Regan will be able to establish the coordinates for Margetta’s army, I mean if you worked together.”
Ian ground his molars. “You know how I feel about her. Our history is bad.”
“I know, and I sympathize. But I have to speak my mind, Ian, because if you could find Margetta’s army, then maybe you and I together could take her on. It would be a start.”
Was it possible? If he worked with Regan, could the two of them together start bringing the war to an end?
Stone turned his head in a westerly direction. His realm lay two hundred miles from Ian’s home, directly west. He shook his head slowly. “I’ve flown over that region thousands of times, over the border between our realms. But I’ve never seen a damn thing, not even the mist you’ve talked about.”
“I’d never seen it either, not until Margetta abducted Regan.”
His gaze flipped back to Ian. “Another sign.”
Ian didn’t want to admit it, but Stone had a point. Why hadn’t Ian been able to see Margetta’s mist until now?
Stone muttered a curse. “All this time, so close to my realm.”
“I know the feeling.”
With his mind made up to take Regan to his cabin, Ian turned to Ben and talked over how the rest of the night would be handled. Ben told him not to worry, he’d keep a fourth of the Guard on patrol where the gorge ended and the plain began. He also expressed the opinion he thought it likely the attack at Ian’s home had been prompted by Braden alone and wasn’t an opening salvo to a full-scale war against Camberlaune.
Ian had to agree. If Margetta had been intent on conquering his realm, she wouldn’t have sent a couple dozen Invictus pairs to his home; she would have sent her army full bore down into the Leberion plain.
So why hadn’t she done just that? Too many damn questions, not enough answers. He also kept mulling over Regan’s observation that Margetta wasn’t behaving like she was up against the ropes.
All the speculation, however, wouldn’t change what he needed to do next.
He turned to Stone and clapped him on the shoulder. “If you have ideas about how we should move forward, I want to hear them.”
“I’ve been thinking of nothing else.”
“Is it time to contact the queen? Hell, from what I’ve heard, Rosamunde has her land shrouded in a similar kind of shielding mist.”
Stone frowned. “Actually, I spoke with her earlier.”
“You called her?”
“She called me. She’s had a premonition Margetta is building to something big.”
It wasn’t so long ago that Mastyr Quinlan had discovered the queen living in a shielded land between the borders of Grochaire Realm and Walvashorr. She was over a thousand years old and had essentially been in hiding for most of that time. A few rumors were rife she was related to Margetta, but nothing had been proven. Ian had once asked Davido if he knew of a kinship between Rosamunde and Margetta, but the ancient troll had avoided answering the question.
“Will Rosamunde get involved?” Ian asked. “If she can create a similar shielding mist to Margetta’s, maybe she could bust through this one near the gorge. Will you at least ask?”
At that, Stone’s nostrils flared. The brother was angry.
“What?”
“I already did. The queen refused.”
“I don’t understand,” Ian said. “Why?”
“Basically, she’s convinced this isn’t her battle, otherwise she would have jumped in sooner, as in centuries ago. She said it’s a fae thing and she’s not to be involved.”
Ian knew better than to question Rosamunde’s decision. The fae of the Nine Realms had to answer to their highest calling first and sometimes that meant counter-intuitive decision-making.
“Ian?” Regan’s voice had him turning in her direction, Stone as well. She stood on the porch, her striped satchel in hand, but she wore a different set of clothes. The battle-stained lot had been covered in blood. She now wore a long, violet sweater and jeans, though she’d put on her ankle boots again.
Her thick, light brown hair was parted in the middle and hung in a mass around her shoulders. It appeared to be damp. No doubt she’d needed to shower after the battle with the wraith.
His heart felt strangely compressed as he looked at her and desire rose once more.
“Ready when you are,” she said.
“Give me a sec?”
“Absolutely.” She set the satchel down on the front step and nodded.
His forearms felt heated, and looking down, he saw the tattoos were glowing. Regan’s appearance had activated the tattoos. The problem was, they also made him acutely aware that Stone was a mastyr vampire and would crave Regan the way Ian did. Ben, as well.
He backed away from both Guardsmen, glancing from one to the other.
“Holy shit,” Stone muttered. “They’re alive, aren’t they?”
“Part of my skin now.” Against his rational mind, Ian’s battle vibration fired up and his fangs thrummed in his gums. Despite the protection the tattoos offered, on a primal level he was preparing to defend Regan against other potential contenders.
Because Stone was the more powerful of the two mastyrs, he held Stone’s gaze, his shoulders hunched, but Stone only smiled. “I think the blood tattoos are working for you, because I’m not feeling a thing toward Regan.”
“Me, neither,” Ben added.
Still, Ian’s words came out on a growl as he shifted his gaze once more between the men. “Let’s keep it that way.”
Stone took a step back and tossed up both hands in a gesture of surrender as did Ben.
Ian forced himself to calm down. He couldn’t believe how fast he’d been ready to do battle with Stone again. Ben as well, if needed.
He took several deep breaths and forced his battle energy to dial down. When he felt under control once more, he turned to Ben. “Call me on my cell if you need me, especially if Margetta makes a move against Camberlaune. I can be back in a few minutes.”
Ben nodded. “I’ve got this, Ian. Just take care of the Ruby Fae.”
Ian took one last look around at his Vampire Guard doing a final clean-up. They only waited now for the troll dispatch crew to arrive and ship the dead to the local morgue.
He knew he didn’t need to stay a moment longer, yet he hated leaving a battle scene. Camberlaune was his responsibility.
Stone spoke in a low voice. “Be with her, Ian. Ben and I have this covered. I’m sticking around until we know the Ancient Fae’s next move. I’ve already put all the ruling mastyrs on alert as well. If we need to mobilize, we’re ready.”
Ian could finally breathe. With both Stone and Ben in charge, his concern for his realm eased, and he could now turn his attent
ion to Regan.
Heading toward the porch, he felt the blood tattoos still sending pulses of heat up his arms. As he drew close, Regan’s rich scent reminded him of her earlier words that she was all in. He sure as hell hoped so because given the way her jasmine-lime scent had him worked up, he would have the devil of a time keeping his hands off her. Especially since for the next few hours, he’d have her all to himself in an isolated location.
“Everything set?” she asked, searching his eyes.
He told her about his cabin, and he couldn’t mistake the glint in her dark brown eyes. As he caught her arm, a different kind of vibration, very sexual in nature, moved over her skin.
“Regan,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I’m willing and that’s all you need to know.”
Another potent rush of desire traveled from his groin, straight up through his body until blood pounded in his head. He almost took her in his arms, but he was battle-stained, his woman had just showered, and they had an audience.
He took her hand and led her back into his house, taking her with him to his master bedroom. “I want to kiss you, but not like this. I won’t be long.”
“Again, ready when you are.”
The words had a double meaning, and he almost hauled her into his arms anyway. Instead, he made tracks for the bathroom, stripped down like his feet were on fire, removed all ten rings, then hopped in the shower.
~ ~ ~
Regan felt tingly all over, from the soft vibrations traveling down her neck and sides, to the exquisite sensations playing over her sex.
She had to work hard to recall the last time she’d been with a man. After a moment, she realized it had been eight years. She’d dated a fae professor for a few months. He’d been a good man and had satisfied her in bed. But when images of Ian kept creeping into her mind during sex, she decided to break it off. She didn’t have enough passion to continue the relationship, but eight years was a long time.
Tonight would end a severe dry spell.
When she realized she’d remained in one place with her satchel still clutched in her fingers, she dropped the bag and sat down on the bench at the end of Ian’s bed.
She was glad he’d brought her with him into the bedroom. The sight of Stone had unsettled her, even though it was clear the blood tattoos had done their work and the powerful mastyr had barely given her a cursory glance.
Ian’s bedroom had a similar view to the library since it overlooked the western vista. The steel shutters had long since been raised following the battle and her night vision warmed up the landscape. The granite outcropping on which the house sat provided an unobstructed view of the angled portion of the gorge.
As the shower droned, she left the bed to have a good look.
The cliff opposite had striations of rock, one after another with variations of beige, gray, a thin line of black and even red. She’d always loved Dark Gorge for its natural beauty and the feeling of power inherent in the rugged cliffs. The river below, that serviced most of the plain cities of the realm, had cut through the rock over the millennia.
A quarter mile away was a beautiful wrought-iron bridge. She watched as shifters in their wolf form moved from the southern cliff to the northern, then disappeared along several trails leading into the mountains. She loved her world, the beauty of the land and the unique aspect of each species, which only made Margetta’s corruption of the usually gentle wraith spirit one of the most heinous in the Nine Realms’ long history.
When the shower shut off, she turned in the direction of the bathroom, where steam flowed into the dressing area.
Ian emerged, a towel around his waist, his dark hair hanging wet to the middle of his back.
Her lips parted. His warrior physique was so beautiful and so perfect. His shoulders were broad and heavily muscled, and his back angled to a narrow, fit waist. The towel covered a tight gorgeous ass and her hands involuntarily made a pair of claws because she knew when and how she wanted to sink her nails, something he’d always enjoyed.
“See something you like?”
She lifted her gaze from his backside and saw that he’d caught her watching him from the mirror above the sink.
Busted.
But she wasn’t embarrassed. Instead, she crossed the room coming up behind him and slid her hands around his waist. She wasn’t a short woman, but Ian was six-six, so she had to peer around his shoulder to meet his gaze in the mirror. I was just thinking about how I used to use my nails. Remember?
His whole body did a strange rolling jerk. Sweet Goddess, yes.
She released him and he leaned forward, catching his hands on the edge of the sink. He’d been in the middle of putting his rings on and now took deep breaths. I want to kiss you and do everything else right now. But if I get started, I won’t be able to stop.
She laughed and headed back to the bedroom window. I’d better be good, then, because I really don’t want to stay in this house as beautiful as it is.
When Ian lost the towel, however, desire shot through her sex once more and created a kind of whirling effect between her legs. She almost ran to him and leaped on his back.
But he was right. Once either of them got going nothing would stop them. Worse, there’d probably be a dozen Guardsmen outside who’d hear a whole lot of moans, sighs, and at least one earth-shattering scream she knew would come from her throat.
So she turned away from him and even closed her eyes as she worked to focus on anything else. “Just let me know when you’re dressed. Okay?”
He chuckled, a deep throaty sound. “Almost done.” A moment later, “There. You’re safe now.”
But as she shifted to face him, she knew she was anything but safe. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt and looked more handsome than ever. Her heart was in danger of falling for Ian all over again. Everything he was as a warrior, as a devoted leader of his realm, as a trusted friend to those closest to him was what she admired most in a man. In some ways, Ian was her ideal.
In others, as in how much he blamed her for the massacre at Raven’s Overlook, she knew she had little hope this could ever be more than a brief interlude.
Sex with Ian would be amazing; it always had been.
But beyond a beautiful laying together, what future could she possibly have with him?
He came to her and took her hands. “I know you’re distressed; I can feel it in the air. Was it the battle?”
She shook her head. She could have said so many things right now, but held back. She could even have spoken the words, ‘Raven’s Overlook’, and ended this moment with Ian entirely. In doing so, she wouldn’t have to worry about the future of her already achy heart.
Instead, she made a decision then and there not to let her concern for what might happen destroy the next few hours with Ian.
Taking a deep breath, she told a half-lie. “I’m worried about what Margetta is planning to do next.”
He pulled her against him, wrapping his strong arms around her shoulders and back. She moaned softly. “You don’t know how good that feels.”
~ ~ ~
She was wrong; he did know. Regan felt like heaven in his arms because she fit him really well and he never felt as though she’d break if he squeezed too hard. She had a full figure with rounded curves and large breasts.
And he needed her in his bed.
Without saying another word, he released her to pick up her satchel. Afterward, he took her hand. She walked beside him to the front door with a hop to her step. She seemed to be as anxious as he was to get going. But for what he wanted to do to her, he needed some privacy. No way in hell he wanted even one of the Guardsmen privy to his doings with Regan.
Once outside, he settled her on his right boot with his arm around her waist and held her tight against him. He inclined his head first to Ben, then Stone. After which, he levitated straight up, then headed east until he was well out of sight of any of the Gua
rd.
When he felt certain no one could see him, he veered north angling his flight at the foothills of the Dauphaire Mountains, staying to the contours of the land. He passed over several villages, but maintained his altitude so that he and Regan wouldn’t be seen.
Regan was quiet, though she sighed several times, leaning her head against his neck. She’d always loved flying with him. How many times had she asked him to take her for a quick flight for the sheer pleasure of it? She trusted him — that much he knew — and he valued her confidence in him.
Sweet Goddess, he needed to take her to bed. His drive toward her was almost overwhelming and everything he’d read on the loop or heard the other mastyrs say about the blood rose experience now made complete sense to him. Mostly, he was struck by the powerful need he felt to protect her, as though her essential value to him had increased exponentially.
But how could he and this woman ever truly have a life together? She’d enthralled him, or at least he’d always believed she had. And because of that thrall, over two hundred villagers at Raven’s Overlook had died.
Yes, he blamed her. He’d tried to leave her bed repeatedly that night, knowing he needed to be with his Vampire Guard, but she’d kept calling him back.
And he’d gone to her because he couldn’t help himself. If that wasn’t enthrallment, then what was it?
He’d lived with centuries of guilt for having been so weak and here he was again, caught in a similar drive to be with Regan. Only this time, a phenomenon had hold of him, something other mastyrs had experienced.
He also knew he had to be open to the power their connection could bring. From the same conversations and loop emails with the bonded mastyrs, he knew unexpected powers could emerge, abilities with great potential for use against the Ancient Fae.
When he reached the foothill village of Juniango, he veered west and began the climb in altitude to 5000 feet. Regan’s warm body pressed up against his, kept his need for her thrumming strong, despite the serious questions he had about their relationship.
The battle with Braden had drained him. He needed to make love to Regan and to feed again. Whether he liked it or not, she was a blood rose and he’d made a commitment to take the journey with her as far as he could.