Lothaire studied Chase's expression: consternated and alarmed, with a touch of belligerence. From the whispers in the ward, Lothaire had learned that Chase was particularly interested in Regin. Now a query about reincarnates?
"And with your question, Magister Chase, all becomes clear to me. The final piece of the puzzle. You are the legendary berserker who returns for Regin the Radiant." He grinned, baring fangs. "How ironic to say this, but ne za chto--welcome. Welcome to the Lore. ..."
TWENTY-THREE
I could be a part of their world. One of Lorekind--a term Declan had always derided.
As he strode toward Regin's cell--with nothing but a pair of cuffs and burning intent--paranoia rode him hard. He felt as if every inmate's eyes were on him, but then they could likely perceive his turmoil. Just as Lothaire had.
Time to face the facts, Dekko. Regin might be telling the truth.
Lothaire had confirmed that reincarnates existed. Hell, Lothaire had specifically said Declan was the berserker Aidan.
If Declan could accept that he was a reincarnate, then what would stop him from accepting he was a berserker? And vice versa?
Which would mean that some long-dead warlord was fighting to take over his already damaged mind.
And I'm ceding territory to him.
This would be the first time Declan had felt such a loss of power--and an impotent loss of will--since the night those things tied him down and fed from his flesh. ...
Am I more a part of their world than I've ever feared? He narrowed his eyes as he passed prisoners. Are they all bloody lookin' at me?
Going mad. Long time coming.
When he turned to stare one creature down, Declan caught a reflection of his eyes in the glass. Dear God, were they glowing?
He knew how to fool psych evaluations, but how could he disguise a physical reaction like that?
And lying to Webb would prove much more difficult. He could almost see the disappointment and disgust on the man's aging face.
No, Declan couldn't accept this, couldn't simply surrender his entire existence. Fight it all the way down.
Which was why his footsteps were taking him to Regin. She was the key. Hadn't she said he'd remember all with their first kiss?
He was ready to test it out. Fuck it. To prove either him or her a liar at last.
Chase stood outside Regin's cell with his eyes blazing, looking ... shell-shocked.
For some reason, his soulless, cold facade seemed to be cracking right before her eyes.
He opened the cell without the usual b.s. security protocols, then stormed inside. His hand shot out to seize her upper arm, yanking her to her feet.
Though Regin didn't resist as he cuffed her, Natalya snapped, "What the hell are you doing, Magister?"
She told Natalya in the old tongue, "This could be my last chance. Let it go."
The fey backed away and answered in the same, "Good luck, Valkyrie."
The cell door closed behind them. As Chase dragged her down the corridor, his grip on Regin's arm was like a vise.
"Chase, let up!"
"Silence." With another yank, he forced her along the ward to his quarters.
They passed Carrow's cell. She was indeed absent, but there were three new inmates in addition to the sorceress from before: two more Sorceri--Portia, the Queen of Stone, and Emberine, the Queen of Flames. Both hard-core evil.
And then there was Ruby, the motherless little witch, imprisoned in this house of horrors. Had Chase himself been the one who'd orphaned her?
The girl gazed up at Regin. Her green eyes were puffy from crying, but she put up her pointed chin and defiantly wiped her nose on her sleeve. Kid's just like Carrow.
And if Chase got his way, Ruby would likely never leave this place. At the thought, Regin's temper redlined.
When they passed Brandr, he banged on the glass. "What are you doing with her, Aidan? Calm yourself!"
Chase didn't answer, only tightened his grip on her arm and hastened her past.
Brandr's roar of frustration echoed down the ward.
Once they were inside Chase's office, he clasped her around the waist and lifted her onto the back of his couch. Standing before her, he gazed down at her face. "You wanted us to kiss, Valkyrie?"
Now? He wasn't the only one who could feel rage. It would take everything in her not to turn away in disgust. Could she control her temper for once?
"Answer me."
Keep it cool, Regin. Smile and be flirty. Say nothing insulting. But she couldn't come up with anything else!
"Your lightning's going off like mad." His brows drew together. "And your eyes ... stark silver. Why are you shaking?"
She bit out, "Waiting. For. Your kiss."
He exhaled with annoyance, dropping his hand.
"You're not going to do it?"
"As soon as I'm confident you will no' bite, female."
The Valkyrie folded in her lips, as if to stem her words.
Declan had never seen this furious and terse side of her. He found he didn't like her quiet, had grown accustomed to her informing him of what she was thinking at all times.
The idea that she wouldn't be receptive to his attentions had never occurred to him. And he wasn't quite sure how to go about this. She wasn't even the same species--God preserve me--and he hadn't kissed anyone in twenty years. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
At last she spoke, words spilling out in a rush. "What's wrong with me, Chase? Really? What could possibly be right with me? We had a deal. As long as I told you my tales, my friends weren't to be tortured. Friends like Carrow."
So that's what this concerned?
"You knew I'd find out. You know the inmates talk!"
He didn't bother denying it. "I have a daily transcript of everything uttered in the facility."
"So you knew, but you just didn't care. You don't have to keep your word to a lowly creature like me?"
"She wasn't tortured, Valkyrie. Not by me."
"You forced her into a hell dimension--you don't consider that torture?"
"Not in the strictest sense of the word."
"Did you kill the little witch's mother?"
He frowned. "Another got to the job before I could. I was on base when it happened."
"My gods, you sound disappointed."
"As you pointed out, my work here keeps me from my hunting."
"I didn't mean hunting witches!" she cried.
"They are treacherous and malicious beings."
"With their enemies, maybe." She was clearly grappling to check her anger, but her lightning continued to fire. "And what about Thad? Just another broken promise?"
"He was scarcely touched."
"He's just a kid." Her lips drew back from her small fangs. "And how long will it be before you poison me again? How long before you let Dixon cut me open like she's been dying to do?"
Though he'd been keeping Regin's exam off the log, he couldn't stall it indefinitely.
The Valkyrie's pique didn't bode well for his aims--but she'd seemed to relax when she'd talked of the past. "I've kept you from being examined so far because of your tales. I believe I'm due for one."
When she merely gaped at him, Declan decided to bargain with her. Trading concessions with the vampire had proved simple enough. "You said you wanted two things from me. Tonight, I'm prepared to offer you one, and possibly both. For a tale, I'll let you bathe."
He thought he spied a calculating glimmer in her eyes. But then she smiled, and it vanished so completely he thought he'd imagined it. "I do want a bath. And you do want to watch me take one."
The most beautiful female he'd ever seen wanted to bathe in front of him. And he was just craven enough to stride to the concealed panel of his room and say, "Then follow me."
TWENTY-FOUR
So this is Declan Chase's lair," Regin murmured as she gazed around. I got inside! Somehow she'd conquered the worst of her temper, and now she'd been rewarded.
His quarters wer
e similar to his office--devoid of personality, shadowy, and freakishly neat. The interior had three levels, one with a king-size bed and a massive computer console, a second with a kitchen and what looked like a weapons armory, and a third with a workout area. There were no windows.
Dark and creepy. With a forced smile, she said, "It suits you."
He sat at the console, still thrumming with tension. Something had happened today that had rattled the hell out of him. But she didn't give a damn what. She was here only to deliver one heaping order of downfall. The man before her had proved himself irredeemable.
She sauntered over to join him--and found some of the most technologically advanced surveillance and computing systems she'd ever imagined.
Budget? Unlimited. Like congressional-spending unlimited.
"Wow, look at this setup. NASA called. They want Houston back."
What a reality check. Mortals actually had power--they were organized, well-funded, determined--and they were going to use it to destroy Lorekind.
Chase was leaving her no choice but to strike against him.
She scooted over, about to hop up on the desk. Without taking his eyes off her face, he moved a neat stack of papers, absently clearing the space for her.
She took it. "Do you watch me a lot on those high-def feeds?"
"On occasion."
"Uh-huh. So now you can watch me in person. Live nude girls in your bath. Be a good magister and unlock the cuffs, won't you?" She gave him a heated look as she added, "Unless you think I can take you?"
When he hesitated, she said, "You can either remove them or strip and bathe me yourself. Gentleman's choice."
His Adam's apple bobbed as if he was picturing the latter option. But then he flicked two fingers at her. "Turn around. And eyes forward."
Eyes forward? She didn't give him a chance to change his mind, quickly twisting to give him her back.
She heard him pull off a glove, so tempted to peek. What didn't he want her to see?
Declan's scarred hand looked monstrous next to her perfect, glowing skin. A timely reminder.
I will never let her see these scars.
Once he'd unlocked the cuffs and hastily dragged his glove back on, she hopped off the desk and began exploring his quarters, just as she had his office. He merely observed as she investigated the refrigerator, opened drawers and closets.
She tried to open the weapons locker and couldn't. "What's in here? Your personal arsenal?"
Precisely. But he said nothing. She grew bored with it soon enough and continued her exploration, heading toward the bathroom.
From inside, she called, "Taking you up on your bath offer! Tale to follow. I'll just yoink some shampoo and soap." Then she began running the water.
He strode inside in time to see her traipsing naked to the bath, that exquisite ass swishing, the ends of her blond hair swaying just above the small of her back.
He took a stutter step, hardening at once. Running a hand over his mouth, he turned and began to pace outside the door. Go watch her bathe. She's naked but for her collar. In my keeping. He experienced a sharp masculine thrill to have a female like that under his power.
"I don't suppose you'll reconsider washing me?" she called. "Maybe my back? Or my front?"
Though she was a forbidden immortal, he almost wished he could do both. He scowled down at his gloved hands.
Steam began to waft from the bathroom. When sweat beaded his upper lip, he hated anew the layers of clothes he was forced to wear. With a muffled curse, he entered the hazy room to find her reclining in the tub, blanketed by a mound of bubbles. She raised one glowing leg in the air and smoothed her hands down it.
He imagined following her hands with his mouth. ...
Most immortals weren't shy about nudity, but she behaved as if they'd done this a hundred times. A man watching his woman in the bath. Of course, in her mind, they had done this a hundred times.
With as much nonchalance as he could manage--considering he was hard as wood--he sat on a bench by the wall. Enough distance between them.
She smiled at him. "Come join me."
"No' likely." To have her slippery skin rubbing against his? Half of him shuddered with want, the other half recoiling. He could only imagine her reaction to the sight of his scars.
Though Declan might not deserve to be, he was a proud man; he would never risk that humiliation.
"Your loss." As she began leisurely washing her hair, the tips of her ears peeked out. Pointed ears. Another example of how alien she was.
Yet now he was so far gone that he could admit he found them intensely attractive.
When she briefly ducked under the water to rinse her hair, the bubbles began dissipating, almost revealing her breasts. Would they match what he'd seen of her in his dreams?
He distrusted this female, had the urge to throttle her at times, might even hate her. And still I've got to see her breasts--
"Ahem. Should we get to the tale?" She'd caught him peering hard at her chest.
"Go on, then."
"Tonight, I'll tell you the story of when you were Gabriel, a lusty pirate. You found me five hundred years ago during the last Accession."
Wasn't this the reincarnation representing humor and sex? Declan could recognize that Regin was humorous, the things she said outrageous, but he was missing the humor gene. Nor was he a good lover. And he didn't see those traits changing anytime soon.
If Declan had been jealous of Aidan and even of Treves, this pirate should send him through the roof.
Regin relaxed back in the bath, or at least, she appeared to relax. She was on a mission.
She might not be a golden-tongued Valkyrie, but she was resolved to take down Chase, intended to go full guns and turn up the heat.
All I need is one kiss.
She would detail Gabriel's relentless seduction, their sensual battle of wills waged nightly in his sultry cabin. She had struggled to deny the Spaniard to save him from the curse; he'd used everything he knew to seduce her. ...
"Gabriel was a privateer who answered only to his queen," Regin said. "His flag--a crimson pennant with two ravens in flight--struck fear in anyone who had the misfortune of seeing it."
Had Chase just flinched at that?
"He overtook the ship I was on, taking me captive."
"How did you recognize him?"
"His eyes glowed. Just as yours did after you gutted me in the street." Filter, Regin!
When Chase's jaw tightened, Regin quickly continued, "He knew we had some kind of connection. But he didn't question it, just accepted it. He turned his back on queen and country, wanting only to start a life with me."
Regin fell silent, remembering how nothing could dissuade Gabriel. No matter what she said, no matter how she tried to warn him: "You must believe me! If you do not free me, you will die in some ghastly way. I'm cursed. You understand about curses--you're a Spaniard, for the gods' sakes!"
"A curse would be living without you by my side," he said so smoothly.
"At least get me to land." So she could consult a witch about how to save Gabriel before he died, to find a way to beat this.
"Land? We do not make the Indies for months."
"The Indies?" she shrieked.
"Si. By that time, you will have surrendered to me."
In the end, Regin hadn't had much choice. ...
Suddenly Chase said, "I don't want to hear of the Spaniard."
She blinked at him. And there goes that plan. "I thought that's why I'm here."
"I want to hear what you'd tell the next reincarnation of Aidan." He got a shrewd look in his eyes. "What you'd tell him ... about me."
TWENTY-FIVE
About you?" The Valkyrie raised her blond brows.
"That's right."
"I'd tell him ..." She dug one fang into her bottom lip. "I'd tell him how Declan Chase freed all my friends and allies, then let me pimp-slap Fegley till he pissed himself."
Declan merely glowered.
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"Then I'd tell him that I hadn't really known much about Chase, not until the magister and I ran away together. On this very night, he flew me to his hometown of ..." She trailed off, as if waiting for him to answer.
Why not play? She'd already determined his accent. In fact, he'd stopped bothering to disguise it around her. "His hometown of Belfast."
Clearly surprised he'd answered, she canted her head at him, and her wet hair streamed over one glowing shoulder. "Exactly. Belfast. He showed me around the city while telling me all about himself. For instance, he outlined his likes and dislikes ..."
Likes and dislikes? Declan had no ready answer. He knew what he hated--his enemies--and he knew what he loved--destroying them.
As if sensing he was stuck, she said, "He liked, um ... weaponry." She cast him an appraising glance. "And working out."
As close as any. He inclined his head.
"He disliked the bubbles concealing a certain glowing Valkyrie's breasts."
No' goin' to deny that.
"After our tour of the city, we stayed at this posh Irish resort--"
"Cabin," he interrupted. "He'd have taken you to a cabin in the mountains or near the sea." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Chase didn't stay at resorts."
A shadow of a grin surfaced, then she seemed startled by her reaction. "Well, this cabin was in the Mourne Mountains, just south of his hometown."
"You know the area?" His da had taken him hiking there when he was a lad.
"I've been there once or twice or a hundred times over the last millennium. So we went to the cabin, and explored the moorlands. Chase hadn't realized what good times I was. We laughed and got up to mayhem of the practical joke variety--until anyone within a ten-mile radius of us had evacuated. But don't worry," she assured him, "no mortals were harmed in the making of the mass evacuation."
"Good to know." Those damned bubbles dissipated too slowly. He still couldn't see her breasts.
"And all the while, both of us knew how the night would end. But we were purposely prolonging the anticipation. By the fire, I fed him Guinness and ..."
"And Galway Bay oysters."
Again she seemed to curb a grin. She liked this game. Or more, she liked that he was playing it. But then, wasn't she the fun-loving Valkyrie, the prankster?
"Once his hunger was sated, I couldn't take it anymore--I was dying to show him how much I appreciated my freedom. And I was aching to demonstrate how much I missed him. We decided to share a bath in front of the fire--"