From Jennifer Ashley, With Love

  Adrian’s expression was bland, but she sensed the incredible tension behind his whatever attitude.

  “I’m sorry they haven’t.” Amber couldn’t imagine not being close to her family, which made her throat tight with tears. Susan, how did you get messed up with all this?

  “It’s all right,” he said, still sounding offhand, but his hands gripped the wheel tightly. “There’s nothing for us to say. Kalen never had much use for the rest of us, anyway. The Etruscans made him a god.” He made a sound halfway between a snort and a laugh. “I never understood why he thought building aqueducts was more important than battling evil. Goddess, we used to argue . . .” Adrian fell silent a moment, as though sifting through memories. “Darius is a well-oiled fighting machine—he has tattoos all over his body that can change to weapons at his touch. He’s a stickler for duty—doesn’t trust anyone but himself to do the job right, and that includes me. And Hunter . . .” He broke off and shook his head. “Hunter is just crazy. Kali is Hunter’s mother, and she gave him some of her force of whirlwind destruction. We’re brothers—half brothers really, each born of a human male and a manifestation of the mother Goddess. Kalen from the Etruscan goddess Uni; Darius from Sekhmet; Hunter from Kali. So we’re brothers, but at the same time, loners. Hard to explain.”

  “And you haven’t seen each other since the year thirteen hundred?”

  “About then, yes.”

  “What were you doing before?” she asked. “I mean from twenty-five hundred or so BC to AD thirteen hundred? Fighting evil?”

  “Fighting evil, training, playing cards, drinking the popular fermented beverage of the day, living at Ravenscroft. Waiting to be Called. Being Called is a ritual—witches or beings of life magic form a circle and say a chant, and poof, they have Immortal warriors at their beck and call to fight the bad guys.”

  Amber gave him a look of alarm. “So if someone does a Calling spell right now, you vaporize and go? Leaving me in a driverless car speeding seventy miles-per-hour down the freeway?”

  “The Calling hasn’t happened in centuries, and the secret of the spell has been lost. Not that I care. Once the goddesses let on that they didn’t give a damn if we ever found Tain, I left them. Even Cerridwen, who created Tain, shrugged her shoulders and let him go. So I basically said up yours. The goddesses can do their own dirty work.”

  “But what if someone is truly in need of help?”

  “I still fight evil,” Adrian said. “I can sense powerful death magic when it manifests. Like the demon, when he killed your sister.” He paused, the lights of an oncoming car shining in his eyes. “I was dreaming of Tain that night. The demon was in the dream, except that part of the dream was real. He’d coasted in on my dream and was going to try to kill me from inside my mind. He got distracted by something and fled.”

  Amber went rigid, remembering Susan’s body so cold and still at the morgue. “Distracted by what? Needing to kill my sister?”

  “I think Susan had started her ritual to summon him, and he zipped through a portal before I could grab him, and killed her. I don’t have the magic to move through portals unless someone drags me—Kalen does, but I don’t. So I had to get on a plane and track him to where I sensed him in the warehouse. When I got there, I realized the dream had been time-distorted. You were there, but he’d gone to kill your sister almost a month before.”

  Amber folded her arms tightly. She couldn’t fathom why Susan would summon a demon—and of all demons that one. She didn’t like the picture Adrian painted, of the demon turning aside in annoyance to swat Susan like he would a mosquito. Tears filled her eyes, blurring the oncoming headlights.

  Adrian pried one of her hands loose and closed his around it, his warmth comforting. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop him. I tried, but he was gone. Whoever he is, he’s incredibly powerful.”

  Amber gripped Adrian’s callused fingers, drawing comfort from his strength. “Do you know which demon it is? If he’s that old and powerful, he probably has a name with a legend attached.”

  “Most likely many names, but he’s not going to leave knowledge of it lying around. A name would help in tracking and binding him. But don’t worry. I’ll find it.”

  He spoke with confidence, but Amber felt none. She supposed an invulnerable warrior who’d lived for forty-five hundred years thought he could do almost anything, even find and kill a demon with more strength than anything Amber had ever encountered.

  “You’re trusting me with a lot of knowledge about you,” she said.

  Adrian glanced at her. “Nothing you couldn’t find out with a little research. The Immortals and the Calling spell used to be common knowledge among humans—still are, among the undead. But humans and life-magic creatures, like the werewolves, have forgotten.”

  He pressed a heat-tingling kiss to her hand then released her. “What I don’t know about is you,” Adrian said, eyes darkening. “Tell me all about Amber Silverthorne. And don’t leave anything out. It could be important.”

  Chapter Six

  “Not much to tell,” Amber began, self-conscious.

  “Not true,” Adrian answered in a quiet voice. “I think there’s a lot you can tell me.”

  His push on her mind strengthened, trying to relax her limbs and her tongue. He wanted something from her, but she sensed he wouldn’t reach into her head and drag it out. He wanted Amber to tell him, to offer it like a gift, just as she’d lain beneath him on the bed and let him touch her body with his strong, battle-scarred hands.

  “I’ve always been a witch,” she said, not sure what he was looking for. “I learned the Craft at the same time I learned to read. I knew I’d never be as skilled a witch as Susan, but I didn’t resent her for that. Susan taught me much more than I’d learn studying with a coven. After I graduated from college, Susan and I started doing magical services for others, to make a living. Our parents died about ten years ago, and since then it’s just been Susan and me.”

  Adrian glanced at her, his smile as seductive as it had been when he’d slid his hands inside her nightshirt on the bed. “That isn’t about you. Tell me about your first time. How did you feel?”

  Amber stared in surprise. Whether he meant sex or not, if he wanted the details, she’d give them to him. “All right, then. Technically my first time was with Stephan Cade in the football field behind the bleachers at two in the morning. The grass was wet, neither of us knew how, and I don’t think we actually accomplished it. My real first time was with a vampire. Except I didn’t know he was a vampire until it was too late.”

  His amusement died, his eyes narrowing as he focused on that piece of information. “You couldn’t sense the death magic of a vampire?”

  “Not at first.” She’d met Julio nearly ten years ago, when she’d been nineteen and living in the dorm at the University of Washington. “He was very, very subtle. I was flattered that an older guy was interested in me—I didn’t realize how much older he was.”

  She remembered Julio’s dark eyes and blond hair, the man good-looking but not in a showy way. He’d been a sweetheart, bringing her flowers and taking her to nice dinners, but not so overly attentive as to arouse her suspicions.

  “Imagine my surprise when he bit me,” Amber finished. They’d been making love. The best time she’d ever had, no exceptions, until Julio had bared his fangs and sunk them into her neck. She’d fought him off, angry and humiliated.

  Susan had been suspicious of him. Before Amber had left on her last date with him, Susan had slipped a charm into Amber’s pocket—a length of knotted string Susan had chanted spells over while she tied the knots. When the glamour had dropped from Julio, Amber had seen what he really was, a soulless creature with evil eyes.

  “He tried to make you a blood slave?” Adrian asked, voice sharp.

  “Tried is the operative word. Didn’t succeed.”

  Blood slaves were women or men who bonded themselves to a vampire and gave the vampire as much sex and blood as he or she wanted, unt
il the blood slaves were used up. A blood slave often became such voluntarily—it was a high to serve the vampires.

  Also, the vampire took care of the blood slave’s every need, including financial. Sex between a vampire and blood slave was supposed to be mind-blowing, and things could get creative, as well. Ménages were common, Amber had heard.

  “Interesting,” Adrian said.

  “Not the word I used at the time.”

  “Did you kill him?” He sounded matter-of-fact.

  “I set his hair on fire,” Amber said. “All his hair, if you know what I mean. He survived. But while he was running up and down the hall screaming, I threw on my clothes and got out of there.”

  Adrian laid his head against the seat back and roared with laughter. “Damn, I wish I could have seen that. He must have been a strong vampire to be able to glam a hereditary witch. Why’d you choose a fire spell?”

  “First thing that came to me.” Amber had furiously enjoyed the sight of Julio dashing naked from the room with flames dancing around his head and his balls. He’d scared her, but more than that, he’d enraged her. It had been a long time before the humiliation of falling for a vampire’s charm had faded.

  “I always wondered why he chose me,” Amber said.

  “I wonder too.” Adrian’s voice was quiet, thoughtful. “You are damn sexy, so I’m surprised every creature of the night isn’t out to seduce you, but he must have known what a powerful witch you were. So why did he want you?”

  Amber blinked, amazed by two phrases—damn sexy and powerful witch. “He glammed me easy enough,” she said. “I wouldn’t have known if not for Susan’s charm.”

  Adrian shrugged again, the power of his moving muscles distracting her. “You were young, and vampires are skilled seducers. But he must have known that if you decided to fight him, he’d be toast.” He grinned. “Literally. I still wonder why he wanted to make you a blood slave. Why did he want such a strong witch under his thrall?”

  “I don’t know.” Amber leaned against the corner of the seat. “I never saw him again. No—wait.” She paused, remembering. “I thought I saw him again when I went to a movie once with Susan. There was a crowd, and I can’t be sure it was him, but I didn’t fancy an encounter with him, so I left.”

  “Better safe than sorry?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “It’s what you said to me when you hid behind your protective shield in the warehouse. Which was pretty powerful by the way.”

  “You broke it as though it were an eggshell. A thin eggshell.”

  “Yes, but I’m an Immortal. Until I made it go away, the shield held very well.” Adrian drove around another knot of traffic. “You brought stones with you, didn’t you? I want you to be able make a protective shield the instant you need one. If this demon is an Old One, I want you to stay as safe as you possibly can.”

  Amber reached into the back seat and dragged out her overnight bag. Rummaging in it, she removed a small wooden box. “I haven’t had time to charge them. A quickie charge will work but not as good as re-consecrating them and leaving them in moonlight a while.”

  Adrian held out his hand. “Give them to me.”

  Amber upended the contents of the box, about eight stones in all—quartz, amber, and amethyst—into his large palm. He closed his fingers around them without slowing or taking his other hand from the wheel.

  For a moment nothing happened. Then a humming noise began, swelling to fill the car. White light spilled between Adrian’s fingers, falling to the floorboards as though it had weight. Bright balls of power danced at Amber’s feet. There was a sudden flash, followed by dense darkness, then the light in the car returned to normal.

  Adrian held his hand out to Amber again, and she thrust her cupped hands under his to catch the crystals. They fell into her palms, one after another, the center of each holding a glowing ember of light. Adrian returned his hand to the wheel and kept driving as though nothing unusual had happened.

  The crystals vibrated with power. Amber had never felt such magic inside them—impatient magic that wanted to get out. “What on earth did you do to them?”

  “Charged them. That’s what you need, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but Good Goddess.” She placed each crystal back into the box—carefully. “How did you do that?”

  “I did the same thing you do, just faster. Witch magic can be slow.”

  “Slow like a mountain,” Amber said automatically, used to explaining her affinity with magic of the earth. She could work some other magics, like the fire spell and spells of air and water, but she was best with stones and the bones of the earth. “Or tree roots.”

  “You don’t always have time to wait for tree roots to strangle an enemy.”

  “Well, I wasn’t gifted with a fancy sword that turns into a snake.” Amber closed the box and slid it back into her bag. “I have to use what I’ve got. Tree roots might be slow, but they never stop. Neither do mountains.”

  He gave her a nod. “Good point. Cars stop, though, when they’re out of gas.”

  Amber glanced at the gas indicator and saw the needle resting on the E.

  Adrian slid the car onto the next off-ramp. Dawn was still an hour or so away, and the entire intersection was brightly lit with a truck stop, gas station, motel, and a sign flashing: “Food. 24 Hrs.”

  Adrian got out of the car and filled the tank. He did it like any normal man would—a man with jeans stretching over a firm ass, which was at Amber’s eye level while he worked the pump. He moved as though he’d not, moments ago, expended more power than Amber could ever hope to achieve in her lifetime. He’d never broken a sweat, as though he did this all the time.

  Adrian finished with the gas, which he paid for with cash, then pulled the car into the middle of the empty parking lot. Amber scanned the few tired-looking truckers going into and out of the restaurant and the passing cars on the freeway. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

  “I’m hungry.” Adrian unbuckled his seat belt. “I can’t drive all the way to L.A. on an empty stomach with no coffee. You raise a protective shield around the car, and we’ll go inside and have pancakes.”

  “You’re immortal,” she said, as he got out of the car and she reached for the vibrating crystals. “I take it that means you won’t starve to death.”

  “But you will.” He leaned down at her open window and gave her a smile, eyes dark and hot. “Besides, do you really want a hungry, under-caffeinated Immortal warrior in the car with you all day?” He straightened up and walked away, never doubting she’d follow.

  His torn leather coat and tight jeans outlined a body of masculine beauty, but Amber couldn’t forget the mass of scars that marked his back and shoulders. He was a fighting man, a true warrior, as she’d seen in the battle in Scotland, and she knew he wanted something from her—what, she had no idea.

  Adrian continuing to stay with her was something more than him helping her because a demon had attacked her. He’d sounded almost offhand when he’d asked her about her personal life, but he was probing for something. Amber had the feeling he wouldn’t stop until he got it. An Immortal warrior had plenty of time to ask her questions until he found the answer he wanted.

  He’d already tried manipulating her mind a little, she knew, not to mention the heat of his kisses and his touch burning her all over. Amber had the feeling he’d try everything, from magic to seduction, to pry what he wanted from her. Not that she’d fought off the seduction—the memory of his body hard over hers, his lips hot and bruising, made her shiver.

  Adrian lingered near the door of the diner, waiting for her, the door’s glass shining under the yellow lights of the truck stop. Amber’s stomach stirred with hunger, and she couldn’t deny that a short stack sounded great right about now.

  She put one of the now pulsating clear quartz crystals on the dashboard and concentrated on raising a protection shield around the car.

  Power shot up and around the car so fast the backlash threw her
against the seat, electricity jolting through her. She felt every hair on her arms stand up and her body sizzle with power. Holy Mother Goddess.

  It was the most powerful shield she’d ever raised. When she sliced through the air with her finger, giving herself a slit through which to exit the car, the magic crackled and sparked.

  She slipped shakily out and to her feet, hoping she’d not screwed up anything when creating the shield, or she’d have to take it down and do it again. She wasn’t sure her body could take two such power raisings so close together.

  She moved her finger across the bubble again to zip it up behind her. The faint glimmer that surrounded the car would be invisible to all but another witch, and maybe Adrian, but ordinary humans wouldn’t see it. A normal protective bubble would deter would-be car thieves and vandals, but this bubble could probably keep out a charging elephant. Amber had never touched such raw power in her life.

  Adrian waited for her, holding open the door, dark eyes calm, as though he’d had no fear that Amber could handle the power. He didn’t even ask whether she was all right, as though he knew he didn’t need to.

  The waitress, who held coffee pots in both hands, told them to take any seat while she bustled behind the counter to serve the truckers. Adrian led Amber to a booth well away from the other customers. When the cherry-cheeked waitress approached, he ordered four plates of pancakes—one for Amber and three for himself. When the pancakes arrived, Adrian poured half a pot of maple syrup over the first stack and began to eat steadily.

  “When I asked you about your first time,” he said, starting stack number two, with blueberry syrup this time. “I wasn’t talking about sex. I was talking about your initiation into the Craft.”

  “Oh.” She stopped chewing, her face growing hot. “Then why did you let me go on about who I went to bed with? You could have stopped me.”

  Adrian poured more blue-black syrup over the half-eaten helping, not looking at her. “I didn’t want to interrupt you. Besides you told me that intriguing tale about your vampire.”