Doomsday Brethren Novella Fated

Bonus material and excerpts at the conclusion of "Fated."

FATED - A Doomsday Brethren novella Shayla Black Published by Shelley Bradley LLC at Smashwords Copyright 2009 Shelley Bradley LLC Edited by Abby Zidle, Senior Editor - Pocket Books ePub ISBN: 978-1-936596-00-3 ***** Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form and proper attribution is given. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

CHAPTER ONE There's a bloody unwelcome sight. Ronan Wolvesey wandered into his usual haunt, The Witch's Brew, with his twin brother, Raiden, close behind. The rowdy London pub always drew a noisy, unusual crowd: athletic types, businessmen, goth girls...and many of magickind's unmated. A surprise, considering its owner was pure human. It was that very human Ronan now watched, all swinging golden curls and enormous blue eyes, as Kari Keswick leaned over the bar, her brief blue t-shirt exposing a band of soft skin at her midriff. She spoke to another wizard, a big dark-haired one with gray eyes and the look of a predator. Tynan Someone-or-other, he'd been told. Fighting a gust of wind, Ronan slammed the little pub's door. Kari didn't look his way. Instead, she gripped Tynan's shoulder as she looked into his eyes and smiled softly. Bloody hell! He feared this wretched feeling poisoning his blood was the emotion humans called jealousy. He'd rather swallow battery acid. "Your eyes will burn holes in her if you stare any harder," Raiden murmured. "He's been here too often this past month, talking to Kari." "Why do you care? It's not as if you'll spend tonight alone. In fact..." He looked away. "I see two splendid possibilities by the window. Come on." Raiden saw such possibilities every place they went, and rarely was he wrong. Ronan knew he would not spend the night alone...but he fantasized about spending it with Kari. If he approached her now, she would likely refuse him--just as she had for the past two years. Until now, he'd assumed Kari didn't want to cross that human-wizard line. Given her present company and their coziness, it appeared her refusal was more personal. "In a moment." Ronan headed for the bar. Raiden grabbed his arm. "She's not for you. Forget her." Ronan refused to concede defeat. "Shove off."

"She's hardly the most beautiful female you've ever seen. Last week's blonde was more stunning by half. What was her name?" He had no idea, and that was the problem. He grew weary of waking up in a different bed, beside a different body every morning. At just ninety, he was young by magickind's standards. He couldn't live this way for another ten minutes, much less eight or nine centuries. "There's something about Kari," Ronan confessed. "I've nearly gone mad trying to discern it." "The fact she said 'no,' a word you never hear?" Raiden shrugged. "Plenty of other lovelies. Pick one and move on." As if all women were interchangeable. For Raiden--and the rest of the Wolvesey clan--they were. "Chat up the girls by the window, then. I want to pop over to the bar, say hello." Raiden rolled his eyes. "Be quick. Besides, she looks...busy." At that, Ronan turned back to Kari to find her laying her soft pink lips against the big wizard's cheek. She looked so delicate and fair against his strong, sun-bronzed jaw. Then Tynan grabbed her hand and squeezed. The sight ripped a hole in Ronan's chest. He clenched his jaw so hard, it was a wonder he didn't grind his teeth into powder. Stalking across the bar, he yanked out a stool near Tynan's. It screeched across the old stone floor. Still, Kari did not look his way. To his left, the heat from the brick hearth flamed to ward off the coming winter's chill. Heavy alternative rock played in the background as some wizards laughed at their attempts to play billiards without magic. Human females at the end of the bar toasted something with stout red wine. Ronan scarcely noticed any of it. As always, Kari drew him in utterly, her smile shining as brightly as her golden hair. Her otherworldly blue eyes seemed to take up half her sweet face. A glance at her bowled him over. There was something...fresh about her. Almost pure. If he could figure it out exactly, maybe he could rid himself of this odd obsession. "Kari?" he called. She blinked several times, then tore her gaze from Tynan's. The other wizard released her, giving her permission to greet him. Was she bedding the wanker? In love with him? The thought screamed across his brain like a battle cry. "Ronan." She sidled down to his end of the bar. "A scotch?" "Double, no rocks." He glanced down at Tynan. "New...friend?" "I see your brother has already made yours for the night." She looked just over his shoulder at his brother with a sarcastic twist of her pretty pink lips. "I hope you're in the mood for a brunette tonight. It appears she's yours by default. Raiden always takes the redheads." Then she looked at her watch and whistled. "Quick work. That's a record, even for him." Ronan grimaced. He didn't like coming here to find women, but his twin insisted nowhere else was more expedient or target-rich. "I don't care who Raiden's found. He can have them both. I came for you," he confessed. Kari reached behind her for a glass on the shelf. "We've been over this. I won't spend the night with you." "Why? It's not because I'm a wizard." He glanced at Tynan. "Clearly." "Don't ask me again. Please." She slammed the glass on the well-worn bar between them. Ronan grabbed her hands. They were soft and fragile, and at a mere touch, desire burned him alive, eating at his composure. "You're like a fever to me. I need to touch you."

"That line work for you often?" Kari thought the admission he'd had to choke out was a ploy? He scowled. "It's not a bloody line." She shook her head, blonde curls brushing breasts he'd dreamed about touching, and extracted her hands. "Like any fever, you'll recover from it." Kari then withdrew a bottle of scotch, filled the glass, then shoved it his way. "Six pounds." With a sigh, Ronan shoved his money across the bar. "I simply want to talk to you." "No, you want to shag me. And then forget me as you have every woman you've ever met here and shagged for the past two years. The notches on your bedpost are long, as is the line. I have neither the time nor inclination." With that, she turned away and headed to the other end of the bar. Bugger! Raiden motioned him over, and Ronan went, pasting on a smile. He glanced at the brunette. Pretty enough. Nice mouth. Small hands. Maybe he could close his eyes and pretend she was Kari. It would hardly be the first time. But now that he knew wizards weren't off limits, he vowed someday--soon--that he would have Kari for a night. * With the slam of the door, Ronan and his date for the night were gone. Kari bit her lip, steeling herself against the pain of the all-too familiar sight. Still, it hurt more each time he left with another stranger, knowing he'd be holding her while she tossed in bed alone, wanting what she would never have: his devotion forever. "Who is he?" Kari looked over to her newest regular, Tynan O'Shea. Polite, quiet--for now. A brewing storm, for certain. He was obviously haunted by the loss of the woman he'd loved. She didn't know much about magical politics or villains. In fact, as a human, she shouldn't know about magickind at all. Indiscreet wand waving after too much liquor had changed that a few months ago. But this Mathias D'Arc creep who had killed Tynan's lady love sounded right scary. And if Kari could do anything to help him find happiness again, even if it was merely listening to how much he missed his beloved Auropha, she would do it. She shrugged, trying to appear unaffected. "A regular who thinks he can crook his finger and I'll shag him." Tynan paused. "Has he ever kissed you?" "No." Not that Ronan hadn't tried. Not that Kari hadn't thought about his full mouth on hers, demanding as her fingers gripped his long midnight hair. Or her palms skimming his five o'clock shadow while his green eyes devoured her... "Hmm. Ever...been with a wizard?" "Not that I know of." "If you'd slept with one, you'd know." "Really? You look like human men. Prettier perhaps, but I assumed the anatomy worked the same." "Yes and no." "That's it? That's all you're going to tell me?" Tynan sighed. "Everything I'm about to tell you must remain secret. We cannot let word of our existence spread."

Not that she'd reveal their existence anyway...or that anyone would believe her. They'd all think she was raving mad if she tried. "Of course." "Wizards are much like human males, except we have more..." He cleared his throat. "Stamina." Oh! The thought of shagging Ronan all night long made her flush everywhere. She hadn't bothered with sex since discovering that her fiancé Edward had a revolving door to his bed. Despite Ronan having the same habit, something about him made Kari remember all the reasons celibacy sucked. And Tynan's words were only making her flush with need. "I see." His voice dropped another octave. "We also have extra senses." Fascinating. "Such as?" Tynan leaned closer. "Wizards sense their lifelong mates by taste. We know very quickly if a woman is ours." "Taste?" "A deep sharing of mouths, kissing away a tear...sampling a woman's arousal, any will tell us if she's destined for us. Making love to her only cements the belief." He was joking, right? Capitalizing on the fact she knew little about wizards. "Are you suggesting that Ronan could kiss me and determine I was his..." "Mate. Yes." "Like a wife?" Tynan hesitated. "Deeper. More permanent." His smile had vanished, and the tight ache in Kari's stomach told her he was quite serious. "What happens if a wizard mates with a woman?" "Happens? Well, he Calls to her. That is to say, he speaks ritual words offering a vow to her. If she wishes to accept, she Binds to him by speaking ritual words in return. Once they're mated, if she's human, she assumes a magical lifespan equal to her mate's, at most a thousand years." Kari gulped. A whole millennium? "Incredible... But what I meant was, if a wizard mates, does he...love her?" "Always. Forever." His answer was quick and absolute. "Auropha was your--" "Yes." He looked down at his hands. "Or would have been once she'd grown up a bit. Another three or four years, and I would have Called to her." When his face tightened with grief, Kari felt instantly contrite. "How many years had you been waiting for her?" He flashed her a sad smile full of memories and regrets. "Twenty." The poor man. He'd loved her deeply and long, and never had the opportunity to make her his. "I've said it before, but I really am so sorry. Is it possible for you to find another mate?" Tynan hesitated. "Not impossible, but unlikely." If he had belonged to Auropha in his heart, did that mean...? "Can a mated wizard find another woman, then decide to mate with her instead?" "In rare instances, usually when the mating was motivated by something other than instinct and love, a wizard may meet another who is his true mate. But if he has that instinct when he enters into the mate bond, then he is hers forever." "He can't...cheat?" At that, Tynan's face broke out in a smile, and Kari was amazed at the way it transformed him. His stark, handsome face turned downright dishy. Too bad for her that she had eyes only for Ronan.

"Impossible," he assured. Kari nearly sighed with relief, then caught herself. Ronan had never kissed her, and given the hundreds--maybe thousands--of women he had, if he hadn't yet found his mate, he was unlikely to press his lips to hers and suddenly decide she was "the one." "Lovely to know, but pointless. Ronan merely wants to make me one in his long list of conquests." "I wouldn't be too certain of that." Her heart nearly stopped. "Why not?" "I overheard him. Bits, mind you, but he favored you over another perfectly acceptable female." "Because I've said 'no' each time he's tried to seduce me." "I might have agreed, except he said you were like a fever to him." "Lust." She shrugged. "Perhaps, but a wizard can sometimes sense his mate even before he tastes her. A fever is a good description." "That wasn't a line of crap?" Kari's heart beat double-time, and she gripped the bar to steady herself. Was there any chance Ronan might be interested in her beyond making her one of his many lovers? "Not at all. I remember my fever for Auropha well." Depositing a few bills on the bar, Tynan stood. "Good night."

CHAPTER TWO Sunlight blasted Ronan's eyes like a two-ton bomb. Slinging his arm over his eyes, he licked his lips. Had his tongue grown fur overnight? He stretched, his hair pinned under his shoulders, and encountered another warm body. Peering over with one eye open, he stared. Dark hair tangled across a woman's narrow shoulders. She possessed a smooth, bare back, small waist, great backside. Ronan didn't recall her name. In fact, he didn't recall much of last night beyond the half bottle of scotch he had consumed. And insisting the woman beside him dim the lights so he could close his eyes and pretend he held Kari in his bed. This morning, he had no illusions. He'd never seen this bedroom, and the brunette was nothing like Kari. Nor had fantasizing that he made love to her assuaged his ache. Lately, he'd repeated this pattern nearly every night. Different woman, different bed. Still, his need grew. There had to be more to life than aimless shagging with strangers. What was the point of living centuries if all they had in store were empty embraces and quiet misery? Sitting up, Ronan scrubbed his hands across his face. He had to leave. Now. Where the hell were his clothes? Ignoring the pounding in his head, he slid his legs off the edge of the bed and stood, the cold November morning nipping at his bare skin. He studied the floor and found yesterday's garments discarded among the woman's. Her bra tangled in his socks, her knickers atop his shirt. Bloody hell. "Going somewhere?" asked a woman in a smoky voice. Wincing, he cursed under his breath, then smoothed out his features and turned to her. She had lovely brown eyes with thick lashes, flushed cheeks, swollen lips. Abrasions from his

stubble chafed her jaw, breasts and abdomen. He'd done that. While thinking of another woman. It wasn't fair to her. Or to him. Ronan couldn't look at her anymore. He turned away. Truthfully, he had nothing against whatever her name was. She'd provided a distraction last night, and in turn, he hoped he'd provided her pleasure. Now, he wanted only a drama-free farewell. "I'm afraid I'm a bit busy this morning. Running late, in fact." He began grabbing his clothes and yanking them on. He'd love to use his magic...but Raiden had chosen two very human ladies last night. A wave of his hand, followed by a suddenly perfectly-dressed form might induce some screaming and require explanations. As if sensing his withdrawal, the woman grabbed the sheet and covered everything below the neck. A relief, really. Not that she wasn't gorgeous, but Ronan couldn't deny his disinterest in the harsh light of day. "Coffee?" she offered. He'd love some, but... "No thanks. I'll pop home. Don't want to trouble you. Do you happen to know where my brother might be?" "With Lily. Two doors down, corner unit." Splendid. With Raiden elsewhere, he could leave this lady's flat and teleport home without any sort of speech from his twin. What he'd do then... No idea. A part of him wanted to drown his sorrows in more scotch, but drinking before eight in the morning seemed a bit much, even for a Wolvesey. He finished donning his clothes and sent her an awkward wave. "Right. Good bye, then." "Before you go..." Ronan winced again. Pray God she wasn't going to ask him to fix some bit of plumbing for her, or worse, climb back into bed. "Yes?" "I don't think we should see each other again." Hmm. He should probably care that she'd insulted his masculinity or his prowess or some such. But he felt only relief. "Agreed." He left without another word, jogging down the hall, bypassing Lily's flat, where his brother was presumably sleeping. Or busy. Raiden was a grown wizard who knew his way home. The sooner Ronan left this place, the better. He all but jumped down the stairs. Once in the building's empty lobby, he hid in a dark corner, picturing the manor he shared just outside London with all the wizards in his family. Then he dissipated from the spot, with an inconvenient trip to Nauseashire when his stomach revolted, before materializing back home. A shower. And coffee. Damn and blast, impossible to have both at once. Torn, he headed first for the kitchen. And unfortunately found his father. "Early morning or late night?" his elder asked. "Both." His father laughed, revealing a row of white teeth, short dark hair lightly peppered with gray, and laugh lines around his green eyes. At nearly seven hundred, Nathanial Wolvesey looked barely forty in human terms. "Me, too," Nathanial confided. Looking at his sire was like looking into Ronan's own future. Same build, same features,

same eyes. Same life of excess, alcohol, and one-night stands. "You're frowning, son. Wake up beside an ugly one?" No. Quite the opposite. But he hadn't woken up beside Kari. Such a sentiment would incite a great deal of laughter in this house. But he wasn't certain he could hold it in. His fever for Kari kept raging, and he needed answers. His father was, unfortunately, the best place to start. "Are you quite certain our family is cursed?" His father paused, set down his steaming mug, and stared. "You doubt it?" "Has any of us ever truly tried to find a mate?" Nathanial recoiled. "Good Lord, why would you want to?" "I don't know that I do." Liar. "Without the instinct, we could taste a million women and never know if one was our mate. That curse is to blame. So why risk a life of abject unhappiness?" Because he was already unhappy. "If it's children you want, be patient. You know from me, your uncles, and brothers, it's possible. Conceiving them merely requires a great deal of diligent effort." His father smiled at him and winked as if that fact pleased him greatly. Knowing the elder Wolvesey, it did. "In fact," his father continued, "Raiden informed me yesterday that a little witch he met last month is expecting. His first. Right proud, he was. So you see..." His twin was having a youngling with a witch he barely knew and might never see again. And he was proud? The thought made Ronan queasy. "Remind me how the curse began." Maybe if he heard the story again, he might discern some way to escape it and learn to sense his mate. Nathanial shrugged. "My great-grandfather married a Councilman's daughter. Ugly thing, but powerful family. He had no instinct for her, but such are political matches among magickind, eh? Not long after, he met a beautiful human. He burned for her quite badly, but confessed to her that he was...what's the human word, married? The human cried. He kissed away her tears and discovered she was destined to be his. When he tried to break his bond with his current mate, the witch wailed and screamed and cursed the family--she swore no Wolvesey mating would ever last. My great-grandfather paid her no heed, broke his bond with the witch, and mated the human. She delivered him a healthy son, but died shortly thereafter. As have all Wolvesey mates since. We're not fit for one woman, son." So Ronan had heard before--over and over. "When was the last time a Wolvesey mated?" His father stroked his chin with a frown. "It was your great-uncle Martin, I think. He mated this tall, exotic witch. I was a lad, but I recall her beauty. Shortly after their pairing, a freak accident separated her body from her head." His great-uncle Martin. Since Ronan had never met the wizard, he assumed that was hundreds of years ago. "But no one has tried since?" "Of course not." His father peered with concern and drifted closer. "Our mates all die, and the wizards are miserable for centuries. Are you daft enough to think of taking a mate?" "That is exactly what I want to know." Ronan jumped at the challenging boom of a voice. Raiden had arrived. Damn. Turning to his twin, Ronan couldn't think of a single thing to say. He knew better than to ask his brother whether he was tired of shagging a different woman every night. Ronan would lay money that Raiden was living his dream. Ronan and his twin were nearly identical, except Raiden had a golden mane of hair to his dark. But their ideas and attitudes diverged more each day.

"Just asking a few questions about the family curse." He tried not to wince. Raiden raised a golden brow. "For the same reason you screamed Kari's name last night when you shagged Sophia." So that was the brunette's name...wait. Screamed Kari's name while having sex with Sophia? "Shit." "Oh, yes. Just after you dashed away, Sophia, all full of tears, visited her best friend Lily. You cheated me out of a very promising morning. I had to assure her that you were far too inebriated to remember your own name, much less hers. Both friends decided we're womanizing prats, so there ends my association with Lily." Ronan refrained from pointing out that Raiden almost never spent the night with the same woman twice. His twin wouldn't welcome the observation just now. "Congratulations on the impending birth of your first youngling." Ronan quickly changed the subject. Unfortunately, Raiden wasn't diverted. "You've changed. Since our transition into magic, we've frequented pubs and sampled many ladies. We've never failed to secure a night with the lovelies we most wanted because we work well as a team...until recently. Last night, I had to work damn hard to talk both Lily and Sophia into coming with us because you were too busy mooning over Kari. It's making my evenings more difficult. It's crap, and it's going to stop." Didn't his brother think he'd tried to stop the constant thoughts of a woman he couldn't have, who wanted little do with him? In truth, Raiden had probably never thought of this from any point of view but his own. Until the past few years, Raiden's perspective had been his own. The more Ronan talked to Kari, the more that changed. "Son," Nathanial interjected. "I hope you know better than to mate. It's no state for a Wolvesey." Especially if it meant Kari's death. In his head, Ronan knew that. He should walk away, refuse to return to The Witch's Brew, never set eyes on her again. But Ronan couldn't do that, not until he knew for certain the curse wasn't crap. Kari was a fever in his blood that he simply couldn't cure--at least not until he had her. Perhaps if he took her to bed once, he could purge his need for her, as he had every other woman. Ronan had no other option.

CHAPTER THREE Sunday night at The Witch's Brew. Always quieter than any other day of the week, but the wintery snow on top of the slush of the last storm had made roads unbearable. A few customers sat in dark corners of the pub. Tynan had come and gone for the evening, and she hoped he was all right. His Auropha had died a month ago today, and his grief was still so raw. The usual collection of rowdy wizards remained in the back with their billiard sticks and ales. A smattering of men and women collected around the room, some magical, some not. She didn't always know the difference. And she watched the door. Nearly ten o'clock, minutes until closing. Kari sighed. Ronan wasn't coming. Likely, he already had a woman for the night and was pleasing her with those large hands, that sinful mouth... She shouldn't care. After Edward, she'd given up men, particularly gorgeous ones with one thing on their mind. Too bad she couldn't seem to forget Ronan.

Suddenly, the bell chimed and the door swept open, bringing a dusting of snow on a pair of combat boots. Long legs in black trousers, a heavy charcoal duster, long hair the color of midnight, piercing green eyes that saw right to the heart of her desire. Ronan. And he was alone. He shut the door behind him, never looking away as he strode to the bar, shedding the duster in favor of a crisp white shirt beneath that revealed a sinuous roll of muscle with every move. God, he was a beautiful man. Kari swallowed. "Scotch?" "Double, no rocks." Quickly, she poured his drink, then set it in front of him. Before she could move away, he grabbed her wrist. "Kari, I came to talk to you." And she knew exactly the subject he wanted to discuss. If she had sex with him, he would only find someone else to grace his bed tomorrow, and she would crumble. Over the past two years, she'd come to know Ronan slowly. At first as a laughing flirt with a quick wit and an even quicker mind. He'd chatted, told jokes, and made her feel beautiful at a glance. She'd begun fantasizing about him. Discovering he was a wizard hadn't deterred her. But seeing him leave with other women, night after night, had taken its toll on her heart. Her desire only deepened when he'd started taking time during each visit to talk to her. About her. She confessed that she'd bought the pub after her father's death because she hadn't known what else to do with her life. Ronan supported her. She admitted she'd missed growing up without the feminine influence of a mother. Ronan, in much the same situation, empathized. He'd even volunteered to clean the pub and close up when she'd sprained her ankle. He'd held her when her cat went missing and rejoiced with her when Misty had wandered home a week later. And she'd resigned herself to the fact that Ronan saw her merely as a friend. Then he'd begun trying to seduce her. And she was so tempted. The more she said no, the more persuasive he became. In her heart, however, Kari knew if she gave in, it could ruin their friendship. And that, she couldn't bear. "Ronan, please..." She tried to pull her wrist free. Reluctantly, he released her. He sighed and drank his scotch in three long swallows, then slammed his glass down. "Kari, you're burning me up. I don't know what to do... You're a fever I can't shake." A fever? The kind Tynan had described? No. Stupid, wishful thinking. Certainly, if Ronan suspected she was his mate, he would have said so. This had to be simple unsated lust. "Where's your brother tonight?" "Elsewhere." Kari's heart lifted with hope, even as she told herself it was stupid. "So, he's finding you someone to shag?" "No. I told him to go out alone. I don't want anyone else. I need you." For tonight. Tomorrow, when he'd had his fill, he'd be gone. She couldn't take that risk. "I don't think you know enough about me to need me." Ronan leaned across the bar, his eyes like a laser, green, hot, direct. "I know you drink only one sort of chardonnay and you must have lemon with your water. I know you hate for anyone to see you cry and that you're too stubborn for your own good. I know you can argue with a wall and win more often than not. And I know you're afraid of me." He grabbed her hands again and held them in his. "You're sweet and kind. You listen, you care, you help. And you're too wonderful to be alone."

Kari absorbed his words with a pounding heart. He'd been paying far more attention than she'd believed. How had he noticed so much about her? "Ronan..." Her voice shook. Damn it all, nothing like showing weakness when she needed to be strong. "Don't do this." He brought one hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to her palm. Fire arced through her body and became a deep ache, threatening her ability to breathe. "I only want to hold you." "Tonight, yes. Tomorrow, another woman will take my place." She shook her head, refusing to repeat her Edward mistake with someone more likely to rip out her heart. "I can't be one of many." "I'm not certain anyone could replace you. You do something to me no woman ever has. I can't explain it..." Again, her heart stopped. Yes, it could be a line. It could also be his mating instinct, a voice inside her head chimed. Kari stepped back and yelled to everyone in the pub, "Closing time." The wizards at the back racked up the balls and stowed their pool cues, settled their tab, then left. The pub's other patrons also paid, then disappeared into the cold night. "That meant you too," Kari said to Ronan. He clenched his jaw. "Why are you so determined to say no?" "I think I've made that very clear." "As clear as I've made the fact you're not merely another woman to me?" She shrugged, but her mind raced. "It's just talk." Ronan looked around and found the pub empty. He flicked a wrist toward the door, and Kari heard the distinctive click of the lock. She stared at the door, blinked. While she'd known he could do magic, she had never seen it. Wow. By the time she turned back to Ronan, he'd appeared on her side of the bar. Sitting on a stool one minute, then he'd...dissipated and reformed, standing right beside her. And she didn't have the good sense to be frightened. Instead, all she noticed was his pine-in-winter smell--clean, crisp, bold. Kari backed away before she did something foolish, like throw herself at him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and urged her against his body. He was tall, more than a head above her, and broad. The muscles of his chest and belly pressed against her, as bulging arms captured her around the waist. "A kiss." With a finger beneath her chin, he raised her gaze to his. "That's all." Closing her eyes, Kari weighed her options. Loss of friendship versus gaining a pleasure unlike any she'd ever known. What if you are his mate? That voice in her head asked. How will he know if he doesn't taste you? "Just one," she whispered breathlessly. And hoped she wouldn't regret it. * Ronan's hands shook as he tilted Kari's head into his palm and gripped her tighter. He leaned in, and her eyes began to flutter closed. A woman like no other, he thought. Kind. Beautiful. He brushed his lips over hers gently, testing his welcome. Her lips parted a fraction, and that's all the invitation Ronan needed. With a gentle nudge, Kari opened further to him. Then he sank deep.

Delicious. No other word to describe the rich flavor, silky texture, headiness of her--which went straight to his cock. He hardened, his body tense. The cycle repeated when she gasped into his mouth, then wrapped her arms around his neck. He tasted surrender on her lips. God, she was like the finest wine, intoxicating him beyond all good sense with one sweet taste. Complicated, perfect, addicting, just like the woman herself. Never had he tasted anything so incredible. Her hands slid into his hair and he groaned. Her fists wrapped around the strands, and she stood up on her tip-toes, straining toward him. Ronan could refuse Kari nothing, especially his touch. He changed the angle of the kiss, taking it deeper, driving into the heart of her mouth. She drew in a ragged breath and clung tighter. Ah, yes. There was something so right, so perfect, about holding her like this. Still, it wasn't enough. Ronan feared that no matter how much she let him kiss her, touch her, it never would be. He'd never ached so badly for a woman, never held one who felt so perfect in his arms. Before he'd kissed her, he'd hoped that having a taste of her would cure his fever. Instead, it had morphed from a flame to a blow-torch inside him. Hunger took over, and he seized her lips with savage need, sinking deeper than ever, fisting his hand in the flimsy shirt at her back. It had to come off now. He had to taste those pert breasts, shimmy her out of those tight jeans, know that it was Kari beneath him. He reached for the buttons at the front of her blouse, still tasting her sweet mouth and drowning in need. The first two slid free of their moorings. When he reached the third, she wrapped her small hands around his thick wrists. "You said one kiss." She was panting, her mouth swollen. It took all of Ronan's concentration to formulate a response, rather than grab her and seduce her here, now. But that wouldn't satisfy him--and it would make Kari fighting mad. "Stop me, then. I don't think I can stop myself." To press his point, he grabbed her tighter, cupping her backside in his hands, bringing her flush against his erection. He'd never been so hard, so feverish... She tossed her head back on a groan. Ronan took advantage of her exposed neck and the scrap of flesh exposed by the deep vee in her red shirt, laving the swell of her breast. "I can't stop you." Her voice shook. "Is that a yes?" She swallowed, hesitated, then nodded. "For tonight." It was a start. Ronan grabbed Kari tight and thought of home. If he was going for the fantasy, he would embrace it completely, have Kari in the one place he'd never taken another woman: his own bed. When he opened his eyes again, it was to Kari blinking. "Where am I?" "My bedroom." He hoped she understood the significance, though he could hardly expect it. She steadied herself against him--the aftereffects of her first teleportation--then looked around the room. "Amazing," she breathed. Ronan smiled at her wonder at what seemed everyday to him. "All right?" She nodded solemnly. "Where were we?" Without pause, she resumed unfastening her buttons. Ronan watched, sucking in a breath, his

heartbeat spinning out of control, the sensation totally foreign. Finally, she parted the thin fabric to expose a lacy ivory bra that was bloody near transparent. Ronan nearly died with the need to swallow her on the spot. As much as he loved the notion of her undressing for him, his restraint wouldn't survive. With a flick of his wrist, he divested her of every stitch. She gasped. Kari had a butterfly tattoo on one of her gorgeous, lush hips and a perfectly wet welcome waiting for him. With another swipe of his hand, his own clothing melted away. "I need you so badly." He eased her down to his bed, and she propped herself on her elbows, her legs falling apart fractionally. Ronan had to have more. Kneeling in front of her, he cradled a thigh in each hand, then pulled them wide. And he inhaled. Uniquely Kari, sweet, clean, enthralling. And best of all, free from another wizard's touch. If Tynan or any other wizard had bedded her recently, he would scent the other male on her. He leaned in to kiss her abdomen. Her stomach trembled under his lips. But a need to taste her completely compelled him. He wasn't about to deny it. Ronan put his mouth to her wet core, laving his tongue over her silken folds. She cried out, hands fisting in his hair. Like Kari's kiss, her flesh was intoxicating. Her gasps and moans merely urged him on, tasting, exploring, lingering until she tensed and trembled, screaming his name. Now. Right now. It was a chant in his head. Scrambling to cover her body with his own, he tried to work his way inside her. Damn, she was tight. But he persisted, easing in little by little. The mindbending friction nearly made his head explode. Kari's nails dug into his back as she screamed his name again. His only thought, when he completely sheathed himself inside her and felt her waning orgasm ramp up once more into a tight vice of pleasure, was mine. Kari writhed against him, nearly sending him careening out of control. "Ronan!" she panted as he thrust deep. Kari. Finally, he had her under him, crying out for him. No pretending anymore. Her embrace, her flushed cheeks and angelic beauty, her dedication, loyalty, and big heart were all his for the taking. She was real. His blood surged, churning. Sweat covered him as he thrust again. Hot and snug, she surrounded him, made him dizzy. More. He needed more of her. Now. Forever. Ronan withdrew, then surged deep again. "I want to give you everything." "Yes..." She wrapped her fists in his hair and titled up so he slid in deeper. He gripped her tighter as her lips burned a fiery trail up his neck. She tightened around him, close now. He gritted his teeth, fighting to hold on. Cradling her face in his hand, he pressed her head into his pillow. Her lips were swollen, red. Her lush lashes drifted open to reveal dilated blue eyes--and a willing desire he'd craved on her face for over two empty years. His heart leapt as he surged into her again, sliding against her most sensitive spot. Kari gasped. Her body tensed. Impending bliss exploded across her face. In this moment, she was totally his, and he vowed to show her exactly how good he could be to her. For her. Ronan set a hard, steady rhythm. She tensed, gasped, clawing his back until she tightened

around him and screamed. Her sex fluttered, squeezing him until he couldn't breathe or think-just feel ecstasy as he followed her into pleasure--and saw deep into her soul.

CHAPTER FOUR Kari woke at once, the feel of a hard, hair-roughened body draped across her back quite foreign. As she inhaled a clean pine scent, she knew the man--the wizard--was Ronan. She peeked over her shoulder at his closed eyes, relaxed face. His breathing remained deep and even. Truth told, she hadn't known for certain that magickind actually slept. They ate, drank, breathed... just like humans. The additional similarity should have soothed her. But nothing about Ronan set her at ease. Especially when memories of the previous night flooded in. She shifted, then winced. Tynan hadn't been joking when he said wizards possessed more stamina than the average human. Ronan had been more than eager; he'd been relentless. After their first encounter, Ronan had awakened her four times, passion seething in his kiss as he clutched her and drove deep, his gruff whisper in her ear praising her beauty and kindness, even as he cursed the fever in his blood. But despite kissing and tasting her repeatedly, he'd never uttered anything that sounded like ritualistic mating words. Dejection weighed upon her, a drag on her limbs, a ball of pain in her abdomen. If Ronan thought for a moment that she was his mate, he would have said something. Or given her some indication that she was more than the usual shag, right? Then again, perhaps he always shagged women with such...enthusiasm. Bloody cheerful thought. Without question, their friendship was forever altered. The casual rapport she'd always worked to maintain was gone. He'd seared himself into her psyche forever. Damn, why had she impulsively leapt into bed with him on the flimsy hope he would realize she was his mate? What next? Would Ronan return to The Witch's Brew and, business as usual, bed a different woman every night? The dozens of times she'd seen him leave the pub with another woman paraded through her head. She sat up, grabbing her midsection as her stomach lurched. She couldn't see that again. Ever. Being with Ronan this way last night, so intimately, him behaving as if she truly mattered, she'd fallen a bit in love with him. Head over heels for him, if she was honest. It seemed unlikely he shared her deep, abiding feelings. So...if she wasn't his mate--and dear God, how foolish had she been for that hope--when he awakened, would he treat her as he did every other shag? Still holding her turning stomach, Kari vaulted off the bed. She had to get out of here. She couldn't watch those mysterious green eyes open and stare at her with indifference. Frantically grabbing her clothes, she shoved them on. The sun was barely making a gray dent in the black sky, so it must be pitifully early. She had no idea where she was. Had no auto, no money for a taxi. Bloody disaster! Once dressed, she opened the bedroom door and stepped into a darkened hall. Long, narrow. Immediately, she had the sense that the stately house was old. A bit of weak gray light drew her, and she stepped into the room beside Ronan's. Maybe a glimpse out the window would tell her something about her location. She encountered a bedroom with every modern convenience, flat screen telly, gaming

console, laptop. The room was clearly male, all dark colors and bold lines. A glance out the window made Kari's eyes pop from her skull. This wasn't a house, but a bloody estate. The expansive grounds with their statues and gazebo alone proved that. The barmaid who'd grown up on the docks and never attended uni did not belong here. Ronan had realized what her foolish heart hadn't: they weren't a match. Dreadful to realize that after falling helplessly in love. She turned to leave the room, determined to find her way out back to her cramped London flat somehow. Instead, she bumped into a hard chest. Based on the dark, musky scent, not Ronan. With a gasp, she glanced up at the male face in the semi-dark room. Same shape, same intent gaze...golden hair. Raiden. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice sharp like the crack of a whip. "Is this your bedroom? I'm sorry. It...was a mistake." "What are you doing in this house?" He raised a brow. "Leaving, actually." She edged around him to go. He grabbed her arm. "Did Ronan bring you here?" Raiden already knew the answer, and clearly, he wasn't pleased. "Isn't this where he brings every stupid girl he shags?" A moment passed. Raiden's expression gave nothing away. "Yes." Kari had feared it, and still, the truth hurt. "I'm presuming all the others made their way out of this old maze and back home. Care to tell me the secret?" Another hesitation. Then he sighed and put his arm around her. "Don't touch me! I may have been empty-headed enough to bed down with one of you, but that hardly makes me eager to shag you both." Raiden pressed his lips together. "Keep your voice down. I can't whisk you to your flat with my magic if I don't touch you. I must have a firm grip or you could disintegrate into a million pieces, never to reform. Painless way to die, but what would become of the Brew?" Kari had no idea if he was lying. But she did recall Ronan holding her very tightly before transporting her here. Though she didn't completely trust him, she didn't see any other options. "All right." Raiden settled an arm around her again. "Ready?" No, but she must leave. Waking to find that she meant no more to Ronan than any other woman would shatter her fragile heart. She still might have to face that ugly reality, but better on her turf, after she'd had time to process her reckless rush into passion. Still, some hopeful part of her didn't want to give up on Ronan. When he touched her...it felt special. She felt special. But he'd never said a word to make her believe that. "Wait! Is it true that wizards know their mate from a taste and use ritual words to attach a woman to them?" "That is customary." "Does that usually happen...right away?" Raiden frowned down at her and crossed his arms over his chest. "If you are hoping that Ronan will speak the Call to you, you hope in vain. My brother will never take a mate." * Someone was waiting at the pub's door the moment she opened for business that evening.

Tall, large boots, a hulking shadow through the window. Her stomach danced nervously. Had Ronan come for her after all? Kari flung open the door, a hopeful smile on her face. It fell when she caught sight of Tynan. She recovered quickly and pasted the smile back on. "Come in." "I'm sorry you're not more pleased to see me." Kari wished she could be. Tynan was capable of devoting his whole heart and soul to a woman. Someday, she hoped he found someone to replace Auropha. At times... she wished just a bit that she could be that woman. He would never cheat, as her former fiancé Edward had. He would never seduce another woman under her nose, as Ronan would. But she and Tynan shared no spark. He was still grieving his loss, and she had lost interest in every male except Ronan. "It's not you," she vowed. "I'm really tired." As she stepped back to admit him and flip her sign to "open," Tynan shuffled in and studied her in the bar's golden light. "Tired give you those whisker burns on your cheeks?" Her entire body flushed. Could a big hole open up and swallow her? "You're here early." He accepted the change of subject with a wry smile. "Celebrating. I'll let you in on another secret you must keep silent. There's a group of magical warriors fighting Mathias. They're called the Doomsday Brethren, run clandestinely by one of the Council members, Bram Rion. Just found out about them last night. I bullied my way into joining." "They didn't want you?" "They assumed my loyalties lie with my grandfather, who is also a Council member and would be opposed to Bram's vigilante justice...if he knew." The Doomsday Brethren's assumption of Tynan's loyalties made sense to Kari, but if he wanted to belong, she was glad he'd convinced them otherwise. "So you blackmailed them?" He sent her a dazzling smile. He really was knee-swimmingly handsome. Why couldn't she want him instead? "They'll learn soon enough that I'm loyal to anyone determined to kill Mathias." She took his hands in hers. "I hope this brings you some peace." Tynan opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, the bell above tinkled. In walked the biggest, baddest leather-clad man she had ever seen. Kari could make out nothing of his eyes behind black sunglasses, but sensed that his gaze zeroed in on Tynan. "You O'Shea?" A long pause later, Tynan shifted, subtly putting her behind him. She peeked around his side in time to see the huge bloke with long, dark hair and bad attitude smile. "What do you want?" Tensing, Tynan was clearly poised for a fight, but the other man merely slouched with a practiced air. She didn't buy for one second that he was relaxed. "Shock Denzell." "Denzell?" Tynan's tone rang with suspicion as he eyed the man. "You followed me here?" "I hear you don't like me." Tynan tensed. "I doubt you came here because you worry we won't be best friends." Shock snorted and crossed his arms over his massive chest, then sent him a dark smile. "You interested in playing the hero or do you have another agenda?" "Answering that question may be hazardous to my health. Despite the fact you're supposedly one of the Doomsday Brethren, you Denzells have a long history of supporting Mathias." The scary stranger raised a brow. "Verbal diarrhea in front of the human?" "She knows." Kari sensed Denzell's disapproving gaze taking an instant inventory of her. "So you don't trust me because of my family? You always blame a son for his father's sins?" Shock goaded.

"Trying to convince me you're not following family tradition?" "I'm a bitter disappointment to Mummy and Daddy." His mouth twisted bitterly. "Why do you want Mathias dead?" Tynan briefly explained Auropha's rape and murder. Kari's stomach turned as she heard the details. That poor woman... How Tynan could speak of such evil without breaking was beyond her. Shock, on the other hand, didn't seem at all surprised. "Bram can use more blokes like you. Good luck staying alive." Kari wasn't sure if that was a quip or a genuine warning. Then Shock disappeared--literally. Kari had seen a bit of magic before but to watch it, here then gone... Unbelievable. "Who is that?" she asked. "Odd name, Shock." "From an even odder family. Lots of rumors that he's half-vampire or infected with Dark Lust. No one knows for certain." Half-vampire? Dark Lust? Kari shivered. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what that meant. Magickind's world was far more complex than she'd imagined. Ronan had shielded her from most of the details. Another indicator he doesn't see you fitting in. "I don't trust him," Tynan cut into her thoughts. Shock following Tynan here seemed odd, as if Mr. Bad-to-the-Bone had been sizing Tynan up, gauging his motives... "Watch yourself around that one," she offered. "I definitely will." Then Tynan focused on her with a concerned stare. "But let's discuss you. Dark circles under your eyes, whisker burn, and a sad frown on that pretty face. Need I ask who put it there?" Kari blushed. "No." Tynan leaned in, sniffed at her hair, her neck. Then he froze. "I smell him on you. All over you." She gasped. "I showered! Twice." "The only way to leave you covered in his scent like this is to be very thorough." Ronan had definitely been that. Kari looked down, fearing he could read every thought on her face. "Which would be all well and good, if you looked happy. What happened?" He folded her hand in his. "Do I need to be ready to fight him like any big brother defending his sister from a cad?" The offer, even if delivered in jest, touched her. "No. I've nothing to blame but my own foolishness. I'd hoped that he would think I was his mate but--" she choked. He used me and I let him, stuck in her throat. She couldn't say the words. Voicing them would only make the truth more real. To her horror, tears stung her eyes and overwhelmed her defenses, falling before she could stop them. Immediately, Tynan came to her rescue and wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, little one. You love him?" She nodded miserably. "He doesn't feel the same." Tynan held her tighter and kissed the top of her head as the bell run again. The door crashed against the wall. Ronan appeared. In a glance, he took in the scene, Tynan's arms around her, hers clasped desperately to him in

return. Ronan slammed the door behind him and growled. "Get your fucking hands off her, wizard."

CHAPTER FIVE Slowly, Tynan pulled away from Kari. She clung to his biceps, her blue eyes round, stunned. Ronan cursed. "Let him go." "Don't hurt him!" Kari insisted. Her words twisted the knife in his guts. Beside her, Tynan wriggled loose and laughed. "You don't have to protect me, little one." Bloody bastard even had an endearment for her. Ronan wanted to rip the other wizard apart with his bare hands. Using magic wouldn't be gory or satisfying enough. "You have no right to touch her." Ronan took a menacing step closer, hate thundering through his veins. "Nor do you. You made no Call. She did not Bind to you. Until then..." Tynan poured petrol on the flames by leaning down to kiss her cheek and stroke her hair. Ronan knew the wizard was messing with his mind. Didn't matter; the sight of another wizard's mouth anywhere on Kari sent him ballistic. And by Tynan's smirk, he knew it. "I will return later." Ronan charged at Tynan, white-knuckled fists at each side, ready to kill the bastard. But Tynan disappeared, leaving nothing but air in his wake. Bloody hell! When he caught up with the wanker... Still, the other wizard's words rang in his head. Kari wasn't his. He had not Called to her. Unless he did, she could not Bind to him. In fact, Ronan had awakened alone this morning, painfully aware that Kari was no longer at his side and could be with another male at any time she chose. The thought alone nearly unleashed his anger and caused him to bring the building down. Entering The Witch's Brew and seeing her wrapped in Tynan's arms had made him damn near murderous. He stormed over to Kari, grabbed her, and sniffed. Thankfully, the scent of the other male drifted only over her clothes and dissipated quickly. She had not shared her body with him. Yet. "Why did you sneak out of my bed this morning?" She jerked from his grip and crossed her arms over her the sweet breasts he remembered suckling last night. Ronan winced as the mere thought made him hard again. His whisker burns abraded her neck, and he smelled himself all over her. Tynan had to have noticed. Then again, the other wizard might not care. Tynan's magical signature, the aura around him, told Ronan that he was unmated and had not yet Called to a female to make her his. Perhaps the other wizard found Kari as irresistible as he did. "You got what you wanted." She raised her chin. "You shagged me, like every other woman. We both know that was it. I saw no reason to linger. I have a life here. Responsibilities." "And another magical--" What was the human term? "--boyfriend?" "Don't you dare behave as if I matter to you! After last night and this morning, I know perfectly well that I don't." "What the bloody hell are you talking about?" "Don't act jealous or pretend you care what I do with Tynan." Ronan tensed. What she did with Tynan? His brain instantly conjured visions of the other

wizard divesting Kari of her clothes, pressing his lips to the sweet red bow of her mouth, holding her hips as he sank deep inside her. The murderous urge returned, along with another, stronger urge to claim her. To Call to her. Foolishly, this morning he'd even gone so far as to scour his uncle's magical reference books and read the ritual words, which he'd never seen before. He did more than read the words; he memorized them. Ronan couldn't explain why except that something compelled him. Calling himself every sort of idiot, he cradled her cheek in his hand, holding firm when she would have pulled away. "I don't know what gave you the notion I don't care or that you're like every other woman. Nothing..." He swallowed. "Nothing could be further from the truth." Kari pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, shutting him out. "Don't. Raiden told me..." "What?" His eyes narrowed as he contemplated beating the hell out of his twin. "What did he tell you?" "I'm not special. You take every woman to your room, your bed, then shag them breathless." She gave a hollow laugh. "The sheets seemed clean, thank goodness. But--" "That is a lie! I have never taken a woman in my bed. I never wanted any of them in my personal space, never wanted to picture them there. You... I had to have you there. Nowhere else would do." Kari squeezed her eyes shut, and tears rolled down her face. Damn it, why wouldn't she believe him? "Raiden already told me the truth, please...just--" "He told you shit!" Suddenly, Kari twisted away from him and ran toward the back room. He sprinted after her, unable to let her go, at least until he'd convinced her of the truth. Then if she still wanted him to leave her alone...he'd respect her wishes, even if it ripped his heart to pieces. Just before she disappeared behind the door marked "Employees Only," he grabbed her arm. She spun around. Her nose had gone red and tears tracked down her face. And still she looked beautiful to him. His heart lurched at the thought that, in his pursuit to give Kari pleasure, he had caused her pain. "What do you want? You wanted to shag me. I let you. It's done." "No! You're more than a fuck. Far more." She shook her head. "So what do you want now? To hear that I love you? Will your conquest be incomplete until you rip out my heart completely? Fine. I love you. I've loved you for the past six months, at least. Watching you disappear with woman after woman, knowing exactly what you were doing with them... I can't take it anymore." She loved him? No instinct needed, just the simple emotion in her heart. And she trusted it, believed it. Ronan paused. What was in his heart? After nearly a century of numbness, an empty void of a heart, he'd never given his heart much thought. But he did now. He loved her, too. Deep in his chest where his heart beat, it beat for her now. The thought of taking another woman to his bed no longer appealed. He wanted to know that her every day and night was his to fill, her body and heart his to love. Was this his mating instinct? Perhaps the curse was rubbish, propagated by ancestors who would rather shag their way to the grave than belong to any one woman. It was possible. Curses wore off. He was no longer like his sire, his twin, his uncles... He

wanted one woman. Forever. "Kari--" "No." Her voice trembled, and she drew in a deep breath. "I'll miss your friendship, and I don't want to turn away your business. But I need time away--" "I can't give it." If "away" meant away from him, no. He cupped a hand around her neck and pressed his mouth to hers sweetly. She gasped against his lips, then softened against him. Gently, he nudged his way inside and nearly drowned in the sweet, addicting taste of her. He'd never get enough of this, of her. As he moaned and pressed closer, she broke away. "Ronan--" "Become a part of me, as I become a part of you. And ever after, I promise myself to thee. Each day we share, I shall be honest, good, and true. If this you seek, heed my Call. From this moment on, there is no other for me but you." There. He'd said it. And inside, he rejoiced. Kari blinked once, twice. "Are those words...the Call?" She looked shocked, and his nerves set in. What if she refused? "Yes. I want you forever." "I don't know what to say." Ronan forced down panic. "There are two responses. You either wish to Renounce me or Bind to me. Tell me which, and I will give you the words." "I--" Suddenly, the front door smashed open, splintering into pieces. The winter wind whooshed in, along with a pale, leggy brunette. A witch, based on her magical signature. Dressed in lingerie that looked barely street legal, she was bound to turn heads. Ronan wasn't interested in the least--especially once he looked into her ruthless gaze. "I'm Rhea. Good evening." She drew her wand, her expression hinting at trouble. "That's my door!" Kari protested. "You'll pay to fix it." Cursing, Ronan grabbed Kari and put her behind him. Couldn't she see that, despite her gender and clothing, this witch had something unpleasant on her mind? Rhea laughed. "How touching. You've Called to her and seek to protect her." "What do you want?" "To talk to her." The witch gestured to Kari. "About something that happened before you arrived." "She knows nothing." "Say another word, and it will be your last," the barely-dressed witch threatened. "We'll see to it." We? Ronan turned. Two wizards stood at the back of the bar, blocking Kari's only other means of escape. They also wore merciless expressions. Could he alone protect her? He'd always joked that he was a lover, not a fighter. At the moment, he wished very much that he'd poured half as much energy into learning to fight as he had into the carnal arts. Carefully, he slipped his arm around Kari. If nothing else, he could teleport out... "Take your hand away from her," Rhea barked. "Let her speak--or else." Kari touched his shoulder. "I know nothing. Once she learns that, it will be fine." Ronan didn't like it, but if he couldn't transport her out of here and she couldn't run, he certainly wasn't leaving without her. Maybe they would ask their questions and leave. If not,

well...he was holding his wand. He'd save Kari. Somehow. * "What do you wish to know?" she challenged the woman whose outfit could have been a prostitute's. But her gaze said pure psycho. "A human with sense." Rhea looked at her as if she was an oddity. "A tall wizard in black leather and sunglasses was here recently." "The one called Shock?" She smiled. "The very one. What did he want?" Would admitting the truth put Tynan in danger? "I don't know exactly." The witch raised a skeptical brow, and Kari cursed the fact she was a terrible liar. "He was here at the same time as Tynan O'Shea." "O'Shea?" Ronan muttered behind her. "Related to the Councilman O'Shea?" "His grandson," she murmured. Ronan cursed. "His grandson who seems to have joined the Doomsday Brethren. Sound familiar?" asked Rhea. "No. I merely overhear occasional conversation, but that--" "Stop prattling. Did Shock and Tynan speak to one another?" Lie. She had to lie--and well. Tynan's life may depend on it. So might hers. "I don't know. I was in the back. Didn't hear a thing." "I don't believe you. Let's see if this helps." Before she knew what hit her, Rhea raised her wand. An arc of light streamed toward Kari, blinding, green. Dangerous. She screamed, and Ronan shoved her, but it was too late. The blast hit her in the abdomen. Pain crashed through her system, and she fell to her knees. God, she felt mere breaths from death. "What did Shock and Tynan discuss?" Kari opened her mouth...and had no idea what to say. She sensed the truth could get either or both men killed. From behind her, a hand clamped around her arm. Rhea shouted, her face contorting. Then he and her pub disappeared. Nausea hit her stomach, and the feeling of floating smacked her with dizziness. Moments later, she collided with Ronan's chest as they landed on a soft sofa. The pain slammed her again, stealing her breath, threatening her consciousness. "Stay with me," he pleaded. "Where are we?" If he heard her slurred words, he didn't comment. "The home of a magical healer. He will help you. Don't give up." She was sweating and suddenly very cold. It took every ounce of her energy to shake her head. "Won't." Ronan held her on his lap. Kari sensed he wanted to grasp her tightly but knew it would cause her pain. Feeling him against her was comforting. "Will I die?"

"No." He spoke with the conviction of a vow, not any real knowledge, she sensed. "But you must promise me one thing," he said. "Do not Bind to me. Ever."

CHAPTER SIX The next four days nearly killed Ronan. He stayed by Kari's side for the first two, holding her as the healer worked her slow magic, ensuring his beloved would live. The bitch who had attacked her at The Witch's Brew had blasted her with some sick magic he'd never seen before. If Ronan hadn't pushed her out of the way, her attacker might have succeeded in killing her. And he didn't have to guess if her near-death experience was because he had Called to her. He had no doubt. By tempting fate and the curse, he had unleashed this on Kari. For his impulsive and selfish need to have her always, she'd nearly paid with her life. Never would he put her in that position again. Ronan would love to simply explain the curse, help her to see that no matter what he felt, they were doomed. But would she believe him? As bizarre as it was, why would she? Likely, Kari would see it as a fabrication designed to end their relationship. She'd think he had cold feet. Bloody hell. He'd been relieved when the healer had proclaimed Kari well, ending days of nail-biting fear. He'd reluctantly returned her to the pub--only because she insisted. He'd wanted to place protections around the Brew, but they would keep anyone magical out...and seriously infuriate her. But he would do his best to ensure she remained safe. To that end, he paid a visit to a former lover, now mated to another. Swallowing his pride to ask Avalyn for a favor had rankled. Once, she'd fancied herself in love with him, and Ronan was ashamed to admit that in his youth, he had taken advantage of that. He rejoiced that she was now happily settled with a good wizard. Thankfully, Avalyn found the irony in Ronan's request and acceded. Long out of love with him, she was a strong witch who'd grown up around the fringes of dark magic. If anyone would watch over Kari until the threat passed, it was Avalyn. Because if he went near Kari again, Ronan didn't know if he had the strength not to beg her to Bind to him. If she did, he would be the death of her. After laughing herself silly at his predicament, Avalyn agreed to bodyguard Kari at The Witch's Brew. Unwilling to leave her to fate, Ronan watched from outside the pub each night. He also waited for Tynan. The curse may have been the reason for the attack that nearly killed Kari, but whatever the other wizard was involved in provided the excuse for the violence. Tynan would not go near Kari again. Watching the pub while avoiding his twin added another complication. Ronan had not been home since the terrible night of the attack. With one glance, his family would see his altered signature and know that he had Called to Kari. Raiden, especially, would be the worst. Still, Ronan could feel his twin's confusion turning to concern and he cursed. He had no bloody idea what to do about his family. He'd untangle that mess after he knew Kari was safe. Suddenly, Avalyn emerged from the bar, her tall, curvaceous figure shown to best advantage under street lamps shrouded in fog. She'd always known how to make an entrance. Ronan's heart pounded. "What?" "Your little human is smart. She's suspicious of me." He raised a brow. "Because...?"

"Dearest Raiden paid her a visit." When Ronan frowned, wondering when his twin had escaped his watchful eye, she continued, "He's been there since the pub opened, before you arrived." Of course. Raiden was nothing, if not persistent. "Then your brother decided to chat with me. Kari overheard that I once...knew you and surmised that you'd sent me." Avalyn pushed her waist-length platinum tresses behind her shoulders. "She loves you and hasn't given up. Some of her magical customers have taught her the Binding. You can't avoid her forever. What will you do?" Crush her as you did me? The air rang with her unspoken question, and frustration clawed through Ronan. He wanted nothing more than to claim Kari. He didn't dare. "What about Raiden?" "He was his usual charming self. Found some bitch in heat within five minutes, and they popped out the back." She leaned closer. "I can't fault your taste in women. I like Kari. Which is why I think you need to explain your reticence...whatever it is." He'd never shared the family curse with anyone. If he confessed to Kari, Ronan would be hard-pressed to guess whether she would throw him out or laugh in his face. He regarded Avalyn. "Can you just--" "No. Not tonight. I have my own mate to take care of. See to yours." "She's not mine. She didn't Bind--" But he was talking to air. Avalyn had made her way to a shadowed corner of the busy street, then vanished. Ronan cursed. How could he quickly dissuade Kari from pursuing this...growing, glowing love between them? The answer hit him quickly. Cursing, he pushed his way into the pub. The boisterous, smoky atmosphere enveloped him. Even so, he caught sight of Kari behind the bar and refused to look her way. He scanned the pub, looking for the most available human female, the most alone... There. An obvious blonde, slightly older, with enhanced breasts and gobs of black eyeliner. The low-cut wrap dress left nothing to the imagination, and he felt certain she wasn't wearing a bra. Perfect. "Drink?" He sat beside her, uninvited. Her gaze perked up immediately, and Ronan felt Kari's eyes like twin coals burning his back. She seared through his skin, all the way to his heart. Hurt poured off her, and it nearly killed him. He gritted his teeth and pushed on. "Sure." The blonde leaned in, giving him a clearer view down her dress, then dropped her hand dangerously high on his thigh. "Or do you prefer to fuck?" Ronan regretted the words instantly. Was that even possible? The human didn't attract him. Damn disadvantage, not growing up in a house where mate bonding was discussed. What, if anything, had issuing the Call to Kari had done to his ability to bed another woman? Time to find out... A naughty smile curled up her mouth. "Even better." "Let's go." He helped her to her feet. She wrapped her arms around his middle and clung to him like an octopus as they made their way out the door. Still, he avoided Kari's gaze--but he felt it every step of the way. His stomach turned, and his insides fumed with anger and shame. "My flat isn't far away," the blonde purred and crept her hand under the hem of his shirt, over

his abdomen. "Yum." Ronan closed his eyes. God, the stranger's nearness was wreaking havoc on his ability to keep his lunch down, and everything inside him was screaming no! He neither needed nor wanted this woman. He didn't know her. Certainly had no feelings for her. Had issuing the Call changed his ability to take pleasure in a woman other than Kari? He grabbed the woman's face and planted his mouth on hers, tongue diving deep. He had his answer immediately. His body recoiled, and everything within him revolted. He backed away, shaking his head. Weak and now sweating, he looked at the blonde. "I...can't. I'm sorry." Then he darted off into the night. In an odd way, learning that he could touch no one but Kari was a relief. Now, he had decisions to make. * Kari unlocked the pub's new door, which Ronan had likely provided, at exactly four o'clock. Every muscle in her body hurt. Her eyes felt as if they were sinking into the back of her head. It wasn't enough that Ronan had sent a former lover to her pub to spy on her. But over and over, she kept seeing Ronan leave with the blonde stranger. Visions of their night together haunted Kari. Ronan taking the other woman to his bed, laying her out, and filling her with his hard flesh again and again, murmuring in her ear how good she felt, how she was his fever. She swallowed. Time to snap out of her pityfest. Ronan had made himself perfectly clear last night. He'd rather bed a different whore every night than risk love. The fact he'd issued a mating Call, then run away made no sense. Perhaps Tynan's presence had provoked his jealousy, and he'd said what he thought would pacify her? Honestly, Kari had grown weary of trying to figure him out. With a tired tug, she opened the door, expecting to be greeted by a sweep of chilled air. Instead, Ronan stood on the threshold, waiting. Panic flooded her, and she tried to slam it. With an open palm, he held it open and entered, no magic required. Stupid, really. She was going to have to face him someday. But now, she was wiser. Heartbroken, but wiser. "Scotch?" Her voice trembled. "I must talk to you." Kari glanced up at Ronan's face, and those green eyes of his ensnared her all over again. Beautiful man...black heart. Don't listen. Forget him. She disappeared behind the bar, putting it between them. "We've nothing to say. If you're not interested in scotch, would you like something--" "Damn it." He pounded his fist on the bar. "Don't look at me like I've cut out your heart." He had, and why should she spare him the guilt? "If you don't like it, then leave." "I can't. Last night was...a mistake." She'd learned this speech from Edward."Of course it was. You feel terrible, so contrite and sick to your stomach. It will never happen again, etcetera. Have I got that right?" "I-- Yes. Exactly." "Spare me. You and my fiancé are cut from the same cloth. Man whores." He swallowed. "Fiancé? A human soon-to-be mate?" Clearly, he struggled with human terms. "Soon-to-be ex-mate, actually. Women loved Edward, and he never missed an opportunity to indulge. Like you. Every time my back was

turned, he went missing or I caught him in a lie or smelled perfume on him. It all meant he was shagging someone else." The humiliation of those memories flooded her eyes with tears. Damn it all, she didn't want Ronan to see her feeling weak. She wanted to fling his licentious ways in his face and make him squirm. Her heart had other ideas, and she turned away when she couldn't control a sob. "Kari." He cupped a gentle hand on her shoulder. She whirled and backed away. "Don't touch me. You had your chance. At least Edward didn't flaunt his conquests in my face. You propositioned her in my pub, where I was certain to see. It doesn't get any meaner than that." Ronan winced at the sound of her former fiancé's name. Cheating bastard. And yet, in Kari's eyes, what he'd done was ten times worse. "I didn't want her. I did nothing with her." She gave a bitter laugh. "You have a great deal of testicular fortitude to look at me and lie." He shook his head, his eyes imploring. For a moment, she was tempted to believe him. Fool. "God's truth, I swear." His voice deepened, cracked. "So you never even kissed her?" she challenged, wondering how far he'd take the lie. He hesitated. "I--I did. Once." That was it. It! She had to get away from him now, before she truly broke down and humiliated herself even more. She ran for the back of the pub. And still he shouted after her. "Kari, I swear it. And as soon as I kissed her, I knew I could never touch her. She made me ill." "Bad breath?" she quipped. He caught her by the elbow and spun her to face him, his green eyes so bloody earnest... "No. She wasn't you." Damn if he didn't have that sincere look down pat. Good line, too. "So you pondered this all night alone and not between her thighs?" "After that kiss, I spent the hours alone, trying to discern how I could love you without risking you." "Risking me?" She paused in front of the pub's private room, determined to hide, then remembered it was currently occupied. "That's rubbish." And she didn't want to hear his excuses. And she knew the fastest way to get rid of him. Clutching the knob of the private room's door, she pushed it open. Tynan rose to greet her with a frown of concern. Ronan froze. "What the devil is he doing here?" Tynan looked between her and Ronan, then back again. His heavy gray gaze finally settled on her. "He Called, but you did not Bind to him?" "How did you know?" "His magical signature." Tynan scowled. "There's a missing section that's wrapped with your colors." Kari had no idea what that meant. "Whatever. I'll never Bind to him. Cheating bastard." Suddenly, another man rose to his feet, this one tall, golden, formidable. Authority rolled off of him in waves. She gasped. "Sorry. I didn't know..." The man approached. "Bram Rion, Councilman." With trepidation, she shook his hand. Then he nodded and peered around her at Tynan. "I

hope she's the only human here who knows about us. That's one more than we need." "She's the only one," Tynan assured. Bram frowned, displeasure evident. Then he speared Ronan with a glance. "Ronan Wolvesey. In a pickle, as usual, I see." Then Bram turned back to Tynan. "I hope their love life isn't more important than Mathias running loose, turning masses of humans into soulless minions. Are we ready to discuss reality?"

CHAPTER SEVEN Ronan stared at Bram, a wizard he hadn't seen in decades. He and the man's sister, Sabelle, had played together as children, but now wasn't the time for pleasantries. "Did you say Mathias is running loose? Not Mathias D'Arc. He was exiled--" "And he broke free over a month ago. He attacked the MacKinnetts and killed the witch Tynan planned to mate." Did that mean Tynan had no designs on Kari? Or had he latched onto her to replace the woman he had lost? "Mathias has been killing innocents and wreaking havoc since." Trying to wrap his mind around something that should be impossible, he stared at Bram. "You said he's creating soulless minions as well. For his Anarki?" "Indeed. We're up to our elbows fighting them. And they're impervious to magic. Mathias is creating them faster than we can kill them." Ronan scrubbed a hand down his face. "We?" Bram and Tynan exchanged a glance. "The Doomsday Brethren. We've banded together to defeat Mathias." Ronan's blood ran cold. Rhea had mentioned the group just before attacking. His instinct to protect Kari went on alert. The "Brethren" part made sense, as another group with that name had fought Mathias centuries ago. But "Doomsday?" Only one object in magical lore bore that moniker. "Doomsday, as in the Doomsday Diary, Morganna le Fay's enchanted book?" "That grants its user any power, even to destroy the world? Yes, the very one," Bram quipped. "We recovered it a few weeks past. So our mission includes keeping it from Mathias." Ronan nearly choked. Such a weapon in the hands of a madman... He shuddered. "How have I missed hearing all this news?" Ronan had no idea that recent matters had become so grave. "You know the rest of the Council." Bram shrugged. Indeed. Very closed-mouthed, even to magickind's detriment. "You're involved in this?" he asked Bram. "I formed the group. Mathias must be eliminated." Ronan only knew of the evil wizard from history. He hadn't been alive when Mathias last terrorized magickind. But if history was even half accurate... God help them. "Agreed. But you cannot be here. You put Kari in danger." "You don't tell me who to serve in my own pub," Kari warned. Ignoring her, Ronan turned on Tynan. "A few days ago, she was attacked by a witch named Rhea, who was looking for you. Tall, dressed like a streetwalker. Ring a bell? She blasted Kari with some sort of spell I've never seen."

Tynan and Bram exchanged another glance, then shook their head. Frustration pounded at Ronan as he addressed O'Shea. "Rhea wanted to know what you and Shock discussed." Bram pinned Tynan with a stare. Tynan shrugged. "Since his family has long supported Mathias, I wasn't keen on the idea of his involvement. Apparently, he got wind of that fact." "I'm not certain anyone is," Bram admitted. "Who is this Rhea and why would she spy on Shock?" Ronan asked. "Or attack a human to learn about Shock's conversations?" Another exchanged glance between the wizards. They both shook their heads. "Bloody hell, figure something out!" Ronan demanded. "My mate is in danger!" "I am not your mate," Kari protested. Ronan sent her a look to let her know that denying his possession now would not be wise. Bram sighed. "Shock Denzell is a member of the Doomsday Brethren...in theory." "Should we assume, then, that Rhea supports Mathias? And that Mathias wants to know where Shock's loyalty lies and is using the witch to find out?" "That would be my guess. Ask many more questions, however, and I'll conscript you." Ronan ignored him. "Who else has joined?" "I can't say." "Who else must I keep away from Kari?" Ronan growled at Bram. Bram stared for a very long time. "This does not go beyond these walls, and I'm trusting you only because you were my sister's childhood friend and you're clearly overprotective because of your unanswered mating Call." "Lucan MacTavish fights with us...or he did until he was felled by mate mourning. Mathias took Anka from him while Lucan was away protecting the Doomsday Diary. We have been unable to locate her. His brother, Caden, is helping a bit. Isdernus Rykard and Simon Northam, the Duke of Hurstgrove, as well. Tynan, here," Bram pointed to the other wizard, "Has just joined. An immortal human warrior, Marrok of Cadbury, trains us in human combat. And Shock Denzell plays the double agent." Bram shrugged. "We'll see whose side he ends up on." "A motley collection." Ronan frowned. Those men were from all walks of magic and humankind, high to low, from dedicated to dodgy. "That's only eight warriors, including yourself." Ronan frowned. "How will you fight Mathias's larger army?" Bram gave him a tight smile. "We're...working through the details. Interested in joining?" His automatic answer should have been no. Wolveseys were noted for their achievement in bed sport, not battle. But...for the last few years, Ronan had felt aimless. What did he have to devote his time to now except protecting Kari? The real question was, would his involvement provide Kari more protection or put her in greater danger? And what would befall magickind if this group of wizards failed? "My mate's safety comes first," Ronan insisted. "I am not your mate." Kari shot him a mutinous glare. "Agreed. We would help you defend her," Bram said, as if Kari had never interjected. "You and Raiden would be good additions to our force." Kari scoffed. "If you could keep either of them from chasing skirts long enough." That did it. He wanted Kari alone now. Right now. Two urges hit him at once: lay down the law and kiss her senseless. She made him crazy with her vulnerable, mutinous streak of feminine independence. Yet that maddening backbone was part of the reason he loved her. As if he sensed the shift in the mood, Bram motioned to Tynan. "I'm done bringing you up to

speed. Let's go." Ronan silently thanked Bram for being astute as they teleported from the pub. Finally, he and Kari were alone. He cupped his hands around her shoulders and held her when she would have squirmed away. "Listen to me. What Bram and Tynan are involved in is very dangerous. You can't even comprehend..." The thought of Kari tangled in anything of Mathias's making pushed him to the edge of panic. She propped a fist on her hip. "You didn't refuse Bram's request to join." "I don't wish to fight Mathias, but it's possible the Doomsday Brethren can help me protect you. However, it won't work if you don't cooperate. Keep Tynan, Bram and the other Doomsday Brethren away. You don't know Mathias." "And you don't bloody know me! I won't take orders from a man who tells me he loves me one night, then shags another the next. I learned from that mistake once." Though Ronan had done his utmost to be the bigger dirt bag in Kari's eyes, he didn't like being compared to Edward. "I did not shag that woman!" he growled. Damn, how he regretted hurting Kari. Stupid plan. "In my heart, you are my mate. Let me explain--" "Shove off. In my heart, you meant nothing the moment you left with your slut de jour. Now go." She sniffed, and the tears brimming in her eyes crushed Ronan's heart. "And don't come back." * Ronan teleported to his home in a foul mood. This was when being magical sucked. A human male would never have a mating curse hanging over his head. A human male wouldn't trifle over his missing instincts. He would weigh whatever feelings he had and make a rational choice. Right now, Ronan felt anything but rational. "So you're finally back?" Raiden lounged in the doorway. Then his body tightened, his eyes sharpening on the outline around his twin. He swore loudly. "You Called to her? Are you out of your fucking mind. Do you want her to die?" Ronan blinked. Of all the things he assumed Raiden would express, concern for Kari's safety hadn't made the list. "No. And she was nearly killed a few days past. Did you know Mathias D'Arc has returned from exile? And he's created an army? He's killing innocents!" "You're certain?" Raiden's expression changed from fury to astonishment. "Is that possible?" So his twin hadn't known, either. Little wonder. Both of them had been shagging their way through life, giving little thought to tomorrow, to roots or family. He didn't want to be like his father, slowly aging and alone, yet still attracted to the sort of woman willing to bed down for the night with any halfway good-looking bloke. Since his father advised him that Raiden would soon be a father, Ronan had been surprised to realize that he didn't want a child with a woman for whom he had no feelings. Bloody hell, if this didn't make him the family freak. "Indeed. Not only possible, but real. Some of Mathias's followers attacked The Witch's Brew. Kari was nearly killed." "Of course she was. We're cursed. You knew that." Raiden raked a hand through his long golden hair. "Daft prick. She likely would be dead if she had spoken the Binding."

"I stopped her." "Good." Raiden nodded. "Resume your normal life. We'll go out tomorrow night and--" "I can't." Ronan closed his eyes. He didn't want to confess this, truly. But neither could he lie, especially to Raiden. "Something inside me...changed. I can no longer endure strangers." "What are you saying? You plan to be...faithful?" Raiden spit the word. "To a woman who will never be your mate?" "I know it sounds foolish--" "It sounds ridiculously self-sacrificing, actually. If you're attempting to deepen Kari's feelings for you, you're wasting your time. She's already madly in love with you." And he'd hurt her. Deeply. After spending the night with her, he'd destroyed her feelings by leaving the pub with another woman. Shame roiled through him. "Not any longer. She thinks I bedded another woman." Raiden frowned. "She thinks? You didn't?" Ronan shook his head. "It's been days since you..." Understanding dawned. "Are you utterly daft?" "I couldn't hurt her more," Ronan argued, though that was but half the truth. "Nor can you complete that mate bond. Or you'll have her death on your conscience." So he must either break her heart or be her death. At the moment, he felt as if either would kill him. "Raiden, I tried to bed another woman. I couldn't abide her touch, her smell. Her kiss made me retch. Literally." This time, Raiden had no sarcasm or growled advice. "I won't ask if she was unattractive. No woman has ever been so unattractive to you during sex that you became ill." "She was perfectly acceptable. Completely amenable. One kiss and I..." He shuddered. Raiden stared a bloody hole through him. "Maybe another woman? Another day--" "I don't want anyone else." His twin paused. "So you're going to leave me to our usual haunts and activities alone? Though we've shared the same curse and taken the same path for decades, you're planning to abandon me?" Ronan tensed. This was it, the question he feared would drive a permanent wedge between them. "I can no longer be who I was." With a shout, Raiden turned and punched the wall. "You'd rather sink into your fucking fairy tale where love and happily-ever-after can happen for a Wolvesey? What you want, Ronan, is impossible." Perhaps, but that changed nothing. With everything inside him, he wanted Kari for his mate, to see her grow round with his children, to love her for the next nine hundred years. None of that would ever come to pass. "If it pleases you, knowing that I've lost Kari and will likely lose you as well is killing me." Raiden looked at him as if he talked to a complete stranger. Then he shook his head. "Did you ever think that, perhaps, I had feelings for someone?" Ronan stared, stunned. No, he hadn't. "You never shag anyone more than once." Raiden looked away with a guilty flush. "Tabitha carries my child now. It's all I can do to stay away from her, to ensure her safety. It's best for her and the baby." What a bloody mess. Ronan felt like a failure. He wanted to know how his brother could stand to share a bed with one woman with another in his heart, but he knew: close your eyes and pretend. But for Ronan, that was impossible now. With a snort of disgust, Raiden turned away. "Let me know when you've come to your

senses. Otherwise, stay the fuck away." CHAPTER EIGHT Ronan sat in his usual table, in his usual corner. And he watched Kari's every move from across the room. The pub was busy for a Thursday night. Humans mingled with magickind without ever knowing they flirted with someone not quite their own species. Music blared, drinks flowed, people laughed--and Ronan had never been more miserable. Kari refused to talk to him. The first night he'd occupied this spot, she'd never acknowledged him. By the following evening, she'd hired a waiter--a large one--with a shaved head and a skull and crossbones tattoo on one forearm and a fire-breathing dragon on the other. Human, so not much of a threat to him, but Ronan received the message clearly: piss off. Nursing a scotch, he watched the ebb and flow of the patrons for the twelfth straight night. He'd long given up hope of Kari talking to him. But he would ensure she stayed safe, no matter what it took. The one ray of hope was that Tynan had been too busy with the Doomsday Brethren to put in his usual appearance at The Witch's Brew. Small favor, that. But one that kept her safer. Again, Ronan wondered if Kari would be better protected if he actively fought evil, rather than sat her at the pub waiting for it to strike. Now that he no longer chased a different female every night, he realized he'd given little thought to the future. What would he do? A part of him wouldn't relinquish the idea that joining the Doomsday Brethren would both give him purpose and protect his mate. Because regardless of what Kari said or didn't say, she was his mate. New fallen snow blew in as the door opened. Ronan cursed when Shock Denzell walked in, his gaze hidden behind dark sunglasses as he canvassed the room. Damn, Ronan had really hoped the prick would stay away. Since Shock hadn't, he rose to his feet, refusing to risk anyone attacking Kari again. Before the other wizard took more than three steps inside the pub, Ronan stepped in front of him and growled, "Get out." Shock scowled at him as if he was a gnat. "Who the fuck are you? Not the pub's owner." "Her mate. I don't need you bringing more trouble here." Shock eyed Ronan's magical signature with disdain. "Not her mate." That truth rankled, but he pushed on. Kari would not be in danger. Ronan glared. "I'm not arguing semantics. Moments after you last left here, the pub was attacked and Kari nearly killed. That won't happen again." "Attacked by whom?" "This isn't an interrogation." "If you want to save her life, start talking." Shock crossed his arms over his massive chest. "How do I know you won't simply end her life?" Shock shrugged. "You don't. But how can you protect her when you don't understand the threat?" Ronan wondered how Shock would take the news, then shrugged. Not his problem... "Apparently, the witch who attacked her is called Rhea. She was quite interested in knowing if you'd been conversing with Tynan O'Shea and what was said."

The expression Shock hid behind those sunglasses was flat and nearly impossible to decipher. Something about the way his body froze, however, told Ronan that Shock was furious. "Rhea is my issue." Though the other wizard was a bit taller and possessed of the mystique of all that leather, Ronan suspected that in any magical battle he'd quickly thrash Shock. He had anger on his side. At the moment, Raiden would be beyond angry, and Ronan could channel his twin's energy when necessary. The secondary energy had saved him more than once. "Mine as well if she comes back to kill my mate." But whose fault is it truly? I brought the curse to Kari, and it nearly killed her. "What bloody curse?" Shock's pried into his thoughts with all the subtlety of a crowbar. "What are you on about?" He can read my thoughts? "Bingo, Einstein. Take you this long to figure it out?" Shock scowled. "What curse?" None of your fucking business. "That compute for you?" "Many curses are crap, but..." Shock shrugged. "Your hairshirt to wear. I figured that since I know a thing or two about dark magic that you don't, I could help, but if you'd rather handle it yourself... Fuck off and let me past." Ronan hesitated. Many curses are crap? Sighing, Shock glared at him. "If you're going to mentally repeat everything I say, this will be a bloody long conversation. Yes, utter crap." "How so?" "Most of magickind doesn't have the faintest clue how to create a strong curse, much less a lasting one. There are other factors, as well. Were you the one cursed?" "No, an ancestor," Ronan supplied. He didn't trust Shock, but didn't see how sharing this information could hurt him. Shock rolled his eyes. "Unless the thing was done properly, the curse's effectiveness to extended family is weakened. Was the curse placed recently?" Ronan shook his head. "It's been nearly a thousand years." "Unless this was some extraordinary wizard--" "Witch," Ronan corrected. "Whatever. An old curse placed on a whole family by some witch who was likely both incensed and inept...it can't last." "Dark curses fade?" he asked suspiciously. "Most, yes." He shot a skeptical scowl at Shock. "Why have I never heard this?" "How much do you know about dark magic?" "Very little." Shock sent him a trite smile. "Exactly. Only those engaged in the dark know how to wield it." "So old curses don't have to be countered or solved? They can simply...fade away." "Often, yes," Shock confessed. "After a time, the only power they possess comes from those who still believe. If you do, the curse works against you." Amazing. If the leather-clad wizard wasn't lying, then Ronan might be free. But Shock's explanation sounded...fishy. Then again, what reason could the other wizard have to put Kari in danger? Did she pose some unseen threat to the Anarki? "A human barmaid?" Shock sighed. "Seriously?" Ronan scrubbed a hand across his face. Honestly, he wasn't certain what to think.

Except...one way or the other, he had to tell Kari why he hadn't allowed her to Bind to him. He owed her that. It was possible she'd still think he was lying or mad. But the truth would be out. Then, he could either continue to avoid Kari and be utterly miserable for the next nine hundred years or-"Oh, spare me the theatrics of the young and indecisive. Get. Over. It." Ronan considered Shock. "Why would you explain curses? Why help me?" A smile tugged a Shock's rugged face. "Tynan says Kari serves some of the coldest ale around. Who am I to resist?" * As Kari prepared to close up for the night, she searched out Ronan in the mirror above the bar. He still sat in the same spot, nursing a scotch the waiter had served him earlier, his gaze never wavering from her. She flushed, wondering if maybe Ronan did care for her, at least more than she'd believed. He had Called to her. According to Tynan, once a wizard did that, he never wanted another woman. Never loved another. Maybe she'd been harsh, overreacted because of Edward's infidelities. Was it possible Ronan hadn't been lying when he said nothing had happened with the other woman? It was equally possible she was rationalizing because she wanted so badly to believe him. She'd been contorting herself through these mental gyrations for nearly two weeks and she still had no conclusion. Again, she glanced at Ronan in the mirror as she pretended to clean a glass. Another woman approached him, and Kari tensed. The stranger was gorgeous. Fair hair and complexion, pouty mouth, generous cleavage--all the items on Ronan's must-have list. Kari wanted to turn away, but forced herself to watch, breath held. As with every other woman that night, as well as nearly the past fortnight, Ronan smiled politely and declined. The woman quickly left. Kari exhaled. Was it possible Ronan actually...loved her? Was it possible that he had instinctively identified her as his mate? If so, why wouldn't he want her to speak the Binding words? Honestly... Why couldn't she fixate on another man, a normal one? Human. An accountant, maybe. Because she would find him utterly dull. "Kari?" Ronan's voice. It sent shivers racing through her body. She broke out in goose pimples. Her nipples beaded. And, no doubt, he saw it all. She did her best to turn toward the long bar and the gorgeous wizard with a polite smile. His smoldering gaze wiped it from her face. "A word?" The kind that would seduce her out of her knickers and leave her broken-hearted again, no doubt. "I'm closing up. It'll have to wait." She did her best to sail past him, but Ronan grabbed her arm. The shivers exploded into tingles. With one touch, she was a mass of need, completely aware of her damp, empty sex clenching hungrily. Of her heart crying out for his tenderness. "Please. I know I've been a shit lately. Let me explain." "Explain?" Why he'd hurt her? Why he'd left the pub with another woman? Why he had acted like she was the only woman for him, then moments after that terrifying attack seemed to whittle

her out of his heart with seemingly little effort? "It will sound mad, and you may not believe me, but I swear...it's the truth." Something pleading and honest crossed his face. Did she dare believe him? Thrusting her hand on her hip, she sent him an expectant glance. "Go on." "The reason I told you not to speak the Binding and I've behaved so badly...I'm trying to protect you. I kept this to myself, fearing that telling all would only put you in more danger. But it's also made you miserable. And me, as well." She tugged her arm free and leaned against a stool she kept behind the bar. "Tell me what?" "My family is cursed--or I've long believed they are. Because of it, no Wolvesey ever takes a mate." Raiden had warned her that Ronan would never mate. Because of this curse? "I don't understand." Ronan swallowed, his face imploring. "As the curse goes, any Wolvesey who takes a mate will be forced to watch her die and is doomed to be alone for the rest of his life. I've been terrified that mating you would be your death." Kari hesitated. It sounded farfetched, but what did she know of magic? "When you were attacked so soon after I Called to you," Ronan went on, "I was terrified that my need for you had killed you. My only hope was to put distance between us, forbid you to Bind to me...and hope it saved your life." "And the blonde tart?" "You weren't giving up on me, and I knew that after the terrible way Edward treated you that you would be both furious and disgusted with me if I appeared to bed another woman. But it's God's truth that I kissed her once and felt ill. Even if I hadn't...I had no interest. I want you. Only you." He swallowed, frowned in pain. "I don't know if we can be together. The curse may have faded. But...I can't take a chance with your life." He looked so sincere that, despite his bizarre assertion, Kari was torn. Even if it was rubbish, he appeared to believe it. But one fact flared her temper immediately. "You came to tell me why you've chosen to tear my heart out but not ask me my wishes on the matter?" Ronan streaked his fingers through his midnight hair. "Did you hear me? You could die." Slamming the glass down on the counter between them, she challenged, "I could die walking across the street tomorrow. I'd rather take a chance than spend my life in misery. But since you've elected to doom us both, rather than try to find happiness...get out. If you come back, I'll kill you myself."

CHAPTER NINE Kari stormed away from Ronan, hoping to reach the back room before she dissolved in tears. Clearly, he believed this curse, enough to haunt her pub for the past twelve nights, his watchful gaze never straying. Even Raiden's lone visit to her establishment hadn't made Ronan budge from his protective perch. But damn it, he thought nothing of condemning them both to hell without consulting her. Prick. Suddenly, Ronan appeared in front of her and grabbed her arms. "I must keep you safe. Please don't hate me for it." She glared at him with a stormy expression, knowing her pain was written all over her face. Let him see. Maybe he'd feel a tenth of the crushing despair she did. "If you cared for me, you--"

"Would do everything in my power to make certain you don't die. This curse has afflicted my family for nearly a thousand years. It's robbed of us of our ability to sense our mates as other wizards do." That took the wind from Kari's sails. "You never sensed me as your mate? But I thought... The fever in your blood..." Apology and regret crossed his face. "I know little about the instinct. No living wizard in my family has ever felt it. None have been able to say how the instinct feels." He grabbed her shoulders tighter. "I can truly say that when I'm with you, I've never felt anyone more right, tasted anyone sweeter, held anyone who gave me such fever. Every other woman left my heart empty. But you fill it. Completely." Kari sucked in a breath. Was he saying...? "I love you," He murmured. "I don't need an instinct to know that." Three words. That's all it took for her defenses to crumble. She knew she should be stronger, make him suffer. But why keep them apart when it was the last thing she wanted? Kari ran into Ronan's arms with a cry. He held her against his chest, stroking a gentle hand over her hair. "I love you, too," she admitted between sobs. "I'm scared to trust you." "I know. Don't cry, love. Shh." He stroked her hair. "My heart knows no other." Slowly, the tears stopped. Ronan wiped her tears away with his thumb and a smile. God, he was beautiful. And when she looked into his eyes, she could see the caring wizard she'd fallen for, not the remote bastard he'd played these past days. The gentleness he showed her warmed her heart. Ronan was a good man. Her man. She understood that he had too much concern and pride to risk losing her if there was even a chance his family was cursed. He'd been willing to sacrifice his heart to keep her safe. But she refused to give him up to play it safe. They'd overcome whatever stood between them together. No curse would beat them. Grabbing his face in her hands, she pulled Ronan's mouth to hers and kissed him, pouring all her love into the gesture. He stiffened, gripping her shoulders with tight fingers. "Kari, no. I love you but--" She cut off whatever he'd planned to say with another kiss, this one deeper, dancing her tongue around his, teasing him, tempting him. He tore his mouth away. "I won't risk disaster. The curse..." "Won't come between us again." "I don't know how it can be otherwise." He backed away. "Ronan..." She taunted in her sexiest, come-hither voice. Then she began to unbutton her shirt, one button at a time. His eyes bulged, and he looked as if he had swallowed his tongue. "Oh, don't. Kari... I can only resist so much." "Then stop trying." She reached around him and pushed the door to her back room open, fumbling until she found the stark overhead light. Then she yanked on his shirt and pulled him inside, slamming the door behind her. Kari drew her shirt off her shoulders, and Ronan closed his eyes, looking as if he was praying for strength. "I won't risk you." And she loved him for his concern. "It's my life to risk." "It's not that simple."

"I disagree." She unsnapped her jeans and toed off her trainers, wriggling her hips until she could kick away her clothes, knickers and all. Ronan stared. Hard. He swallowed, his fists clenching at his sides. "God help me, woman, you could test a saint. And that's something no one has ever accused me of being." Thrusting his hands into her hair, he tugged until her mouth was just beneath his. Then he devoured her. The kiss went soul deep, and Kari swore she could taste his anxiety, concern, determination...and love. Her heart flipped in her chest, and she knew she'd made the right choice. They must be together, curse bedamned, starting tonight. With nimble fingers, she attacked his clothes, determined to pull them off his body as quickly as possible. Ronan ended the kiss and stared at her with eyes so green, they sizzled with hunger and promise. The look ignited an ache between her legs. A flick of his wrist later, and his clothes melted off his body, piled in a corner of the room. Kari gasped and took in every amazing bit of his body, wide shoulders, hard chest, ridged abdomen, and the thick stalk of his cock standing up for her. Eager to love all of him, she sank to her knees and gripped his thighs, taking him in her mouth before he could do more than cry out her name. She stretched her lips wide to take him, and sank deep until he touched the back of her throat. "Yeeeessss. Oh, love. Your mouth..." He bucked up, sliding against her tongue. "Heaven." She wanted everything between them to be like that. Perfect. It was up to her to demonstrate that it could be, that they couldn't let a curse stop them. "Stop." His voice cut into her thoughts. "I must get inside you now." Kari was still guessing his intention when he lifted her and set her on a nearby crate, draped with a moving blanket. Inside were bottles of liquor, waiting for her to unpack. Instead, he gripped her thighs and spread them wide, crooking his hands in her knees and pulling her bottom to the edge of the crate. "Put your hands behind you. Lean back," he demanded. His voice alone made her shiver, and she complied. "Good girl." "Hurry," she demanded. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he shifted one hand to her hip. "Look at me." Ronan waited until she lifted her bedazzled, heavy-lidded stare. Their gazes met, and her insides crackled with heat. Sensual need poured through her veins, making them rich and heavy, even as her heart beat with utter devotion. A moment later, Ronan drove home, filling her to the hilt in one demanding stroke. She absorbed him with a cry, feeling complete. Whole. Ecstatic. Groaning, he set a fast pace, nearly harsh, as if he could claim her so thoroughly that nothing could ever take her from him. Kari melted all over again. He held her gaze as he filled her body repeatedly. "You please me as no other has. As no other could." Then his mouth crashed over hers again, and Kari was lost in a storm of passion. Admittedly, before Ronan her sex life had been brief at best, but even with her relative inexperience she knew the feelings they shared, the sensations their lovemaking produced, were different. Special. She threw herself into the kiss, gasping against his lips when his thumb slid over the swollen bud of her clit and lingered, pushing her toward the edge of pleasure in rhythmic circles.

Burning with need, Kari felt her body tighten around him. Swelling with need and love, she hurtled straight into a chasm of pleasure so deep and wide, she screamed. Her cries echoed in the large room. Breath, thought, and sanity eluded her until he raised her hips, leaned over her body, and filled her with his most demanding strokes yet. Then, with a shout, he followed her into the abyss. * For long moments afterward, they remained wrapped in one another's arms, struggling to catch their breath and reclaim their ability to think. Ronan savored the bliss of holding her...because he knew reality and regret would quickly set in. "I won't let you go." Kari wrapped her arms around his shoulders even tighter, despite the fact he was still inside her. "I want to speak the Binding." Her insistence and loyalty was touching, but futile. "Kari, love, I want that as well. I have to research the curse more, find out if it's possible--" "I refuse to believe it's impossible. If we heed the curse we'll be separated, and it will have beaten us. Together, we have a chance." Why couldn't he make her understand? "One that may cost you your life!" "What sort of life would it be if we're apart?" A miserable one. She would, perhaps, fall in love again and marry some human. As much as the thought made him murderous, he knew it would be best to release her so she might find happiness. He, however, would be alone for the rest of his centuries. Year after bleak year, that stretched into empty decades, lay before him. Ronan swallowed the bitter pill. Damn his foolish ancestor who had betrayed a witch willing to curse him. Damn his family--himself--for never researching the curse, doing anything necessary to break it, discerning if it was possible that believing in a curse gave it strength. He was motivated to end it now. Ronan kissed the tip of her nose and pulled away, clothing them both with a wave of his hand and a quick bit of magic. "If there is a way for us to be together, one that ensures you'll not be at risk, I will seize it with both hands and never let go," he vowed. Kari threw her arms around him and clung, and Ronan found himself grasping her just as desperately. She'd become his heart--his everything. If the curse forced him to give her up, he had no idea how he would bear it. He leaned in to kiss her softly--and felt a disturbance in the air. Quickly, he thrust Kari behind him and faced the threat. Instead, he found Tynan. Another whoosh, and Bram stood beside him. Then more: a bloke with wavy brown hair and resentment broiling in his very blue eyes, a hulking wizard with a nearly shaved head and an angry mien, and a sophisticated-looking fellow in Savile Row tailoring. He held the arm of one of the biggest humans Ronan had ever seen. With black hair and goatee, along with an expression to match, he looked like one to watch. "Ronan." Bram blinked in surprise. "We expected an empty room. Kari said we'd have a place to hide from my all-too-nosy sister... Anyway, this is Caden MacTavish, Ice Rykard, and Simon Northam, Duke of Hurstgrove." "Just Duke, please," said the one who looked like he'd stepped out of GQ. "The big warrior is Marrok. I think you know everyone else."

Fashionably late, Shock appeared, looking both sharp and annoyed. Ronan whirled on Kari. "You've let the Doomsday Brethren meet here?"

CHAPTER TEN "I have." She held up a hand. "And before you remind me that you told me not to, I'll remind you that that you have not allowed me to Bind to you. You have no say." Ronan looked ready to explode as he grabbed her arm. "I only want to protect you." "I need your love far more than your protection," she whispered, then yanked her arm from his grasp and turned to Bram. "It's all yours, gentlemen. I'll close up the front so you'll have privacy and--" The door behind the warriors crashed open. Ronan looked up to see Mathias's witch Rhea clad as scantily as ever, surrounded by a cluster of hooded figures. "Fuck," he heard Shock mutter to his right. "What the hell are you doing here, Rhea?" Shock demanded. "Your presence is requested." The witch drawled nastily. "Call it a family emergency." "Since when is Mathias family?" Bram muttered. Shock gritted his teeth as he shouldered his way through the other warriors and approached her. "What, think you're my mummy now?" "Your conscience, who answers to a higher power." Ronan sneered. Had Mathias so fooled enough of magickind into believing him to be good? Unbelievable but true. Tynan looked ready to throttle the woman. With a stern glare, Shock stilled the warrior. "Where am I needed?" Rhea's grin widened. "My friends will escort you there." Ronan watched the byplay between the big wizard and the small witch. On the surface, it looked as if Rhea had won the encounter, but Ronan had the feeling Shock was merely placating her, though his face revealed nothing. "Once there, Shock, you can explain to Mathias why you're here with these...people." Shock turned and bared his teeth, then disappeared. Rhea's gaze returned to the others in the room, sweeping over them as if they were lower life forms. "I'm remaining behind to take out the rubbish." "Or we can just take you hostage," Bram suggested to Rhea, stepping forward. "I wouldn't suggest attacking. As you can see, I'm not alone." She motioned to the score of robed wizards. "These Anarki are older and stronger than the last you encountered." Caden rubbed his hands together. "Mopping them up sounds like fun to me." "Aye," Marrok seconded. At Ronan's side, Kari gasped. He soothed her by pulling her closer and squeezing her hand, but his mind whirled. Shock had likely saved his own backside, and Ronan didn't respect that at all. At the front of the room, Rhea laughed derisively like a warrior wearing full armor rather than nearly transparent knickers. "I can't wait to see big Bram Rion thwarted. How delicious." Then she glanced Ice's way. "Mathias is very much looking forward to seeing you soon, Mr. Rykard. He'd love to extend you the same courtesies he did your dear departed sister." Ice stomped across the room, giving Ronan the distinct impression Rhea had just baited an

angry bear who would maul her without remorse. Bram pulled Ice back by the back of his shirt and arched a golden brow. "I make it a point never to pick on those I can squash without even lifting my wand. Do the same." Ice cursed under his breath, and Ronan could see his need to attack in every line of his taut body. Rhea's eyes narrowed, clearly hating that Ice could be reasoned with. "The Doomsday Brethren too afraid of a mere witch to fight?" "Too smart to expend the energy," Caden tossed back. Duke laughed. Rhea's cheeks flooded with red fury. Ronan didn't like that look, and eased Kari completely behind him. He needed to leave with her, take her from harm's path. When he reached for her so he could teleport her elsewhere, she backed away. "Stop," she protested. He ignored her. "I will not lose you." "Lose her? You'll all lose. You'll all die," Rhea assured and raised her wand. "And Mathias will adore me forever for it." In seconds, the fact the Doomsday Brethren were severely outnumbered became frustratingly obvious. Even as Ronan threw himself into this battle, he feared their seven against the opposing twenty would be a slaughter. And in the midst of it, he must keep Kari safe. Magical trails blazed through the cavernous, semi-dark room. He ducked an oncoming spell, pulling Kari down, as he shot a paralyzing spell at the robed figure in front of him. It bounced off, as if repelled. A blast of cold coming from the creature radiated toward him as it pulled back a warped mouth to reveal skeletal gums in a menacing smile. "Oh my goodness..." Kari sounded every bit as shocked as he felt. What the hell was that? "Know anything about fighting like a human?" Caden said beside him suddenly. "Not a thing." In fact, he knew little about fighting like a wizard since he'd always been devoted to carnal pursuits. Now, he regretted that like mad. "The robed figures that are half rotted and cold-skinned are dead humans with no soul. They are immune to magic." "Like an untouchable?" No one had heard of such a person in a thousand years or more. "Not that special. You can kill these easily." Into his left hand, Caden slapped a long, wicked blade, its serrated end promising maximum damage. "Jab this into the chest or belly, then stand back and watch them bleed." A moment later, Caden demonstrated. Ronan's eyes widened. The creature bled black before it collapsed to the ground and died. It was both barbaric and effective. Still, he'd have to get unnervingly close to the creature...which meant Kari would as well. His every instinct as a mate resisted it. Two more of the creatures crept his way, and Rhea eyed Kari with malevolence. "You can't protect her. She'll make a tasty little sacrifice to Mathias's pleasures." Ronan growled. Never! Tucking his wand away, he transferred the knife to his dominant hand and edged closer to the first of the two attackers. "Stay close to me," he said to Kari, grabbing her wrist. The first creature bared its teeth, then leapt on him quickly. Its skin chilled him, freezing his muscles, pinning the knife between them, as the other rounded him, his gaze fixed squarely on Kari. Ronan twisted and surged, trying to get free, but the creature was astonishingly strong, and

the deep freeze of his body frighteningly effective at holding him immobile. "Ronan!" Kari screamed close to his ear. His heart stopped, then chugged into overdrive. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the second creature lurch closer to Kari. She shivered against him, recoiled. Ronan could smell her fear. And redoubled his efforts to get her free. If he didn't she would die. Had his affection, the curse, put her in the wrong place and the wrong time? Would he lose her forever--if he made it out alive himself? Or was Shock and Kari right; no one was assured a long life? "I'm frozen." He hated to admit it, but he owed Kari the truth. Then he saw the second zombie reach out a hand with rotting flesh. A second blast of cold trapped him, though his belly burned with fear for Kari. And with regret. Just before the monster grabbed her hair, Kari ducked between Ronan's legs, grabbing frantically at the sword in his icy hand. As she pried it out of his stiff fingers, Ronan felt the creature in front of him place decomposing fingers around his neck and squeeze--hard. The grip was bloody strong. His oxygen disappeared immediately. He tried to fight, cough, sputter, wrench free. To no avail. The creature's hold was chilling and absolute. The edges of his vision were graying and his hope fading as he reached out to his brother through their twin bond and begged for energy. Ronan felt nothing from his brother, and as the zombie behind him clawed its way down his back, sending the deep freeze all the way through his blood, he felt his heart slow. His heart stopped completely when the fiend grabbed Kari by the hair and loomed over her with malevolent glee. But she didn't surrender. "Die, you bloody bastard!" She shoved the knife into the monster's belly. It staggered away, black sludge oozing from the open wound. The beast still choking Ronan snarled, then tightened his grip. The freeze stopped the blood running in his veins. His world narrowed to a pinpoint with Kari at the center as he fell to his knees. The end had come. Get out! Love you, he mouthed. "I'm getting out--and you're coming with me." With that, she kicked at the zombie's rotting hip. It dislodged from its socket, and the leg fell away, crumbling out from under him. The monster stumbled, reaching out to Kari to defend or balance itself. Suddenly, one hand at his throat was gone, and Ronan could breathe again. Before he could strike his attacker, Kari linked her hands together above her head, then swung them down right on the fiend's elbow. The arm broke in half--and ended his hold on Ronan. The weakness it left behind was debilitating. He literally had been chilled to the bone. His heart was barely beating, his oxygen not flowing. He watched the melee around him as if it was far away. Hopping back, the creature glared at Kari, then grabbed her neck with his good arm. A solid push later, and she fell to the ground, on top of the zombie, who enfolded her in his icy, deathly grip. "Not happening," she grunted, then stabbed the sword into the zombie's side. It howled, and black flowed from its open wound. Kari hopped away--only to be dragged to the ground by another hollow-eyed monster. Her scream chilled his blood in a way the creatures' icy clutches never could. God, she'd made such a valiant effort to save them both, and though he could finally feel the

bloody beating through his heart and his hands tingling as they defrosted, he could still barely move. Still had no energy. Raiden! he screamed down his senses. Please. My mate... A flood of resentment invaded his consciousness. Then Ronan understood: Raiden didn't loathe him; his twin was jealous that he had no mate of his own. Ronan vowed to do whatever necessary to help his twin if he made it out alive. A moment later, Raiden's energy drenched him, a wellspring of force and intensity. Along with his own determination to see Kari safe, it was enough for him to wrench the blade from Kari's hand and sever the head of the robed figure attacking her. Together, they had sent three of the terrible things to hell. Around him, Bram and the rest of the Doomsday Brethren had nearly dispensed with the rest. Duke reached out for Rhea, intent on trapping her. She flicked her wand at him, a nasty spell. Ronan could only guess at its dark magic. Thankfully, the wizard warrior deflected it, rage stamped across his chiseled features. With a scream, Rhea teleported away, leaving the fallen bodies of Mathias's soldiers for their disposal. Ronan's energy fled, and he fell to the ground. Kari dropped beside him, her hands clasping his shoulders. "Are you all right?" An instant later Raiden appeared at his feet, his watchful gaze taking in his mate's devotion. Ronan felt another spurt of jealousy. He didn't want Kari for himself...but he did want that sort of happiness. Why hadn't his brother let him feel that earlier? "Raiden," Bram greeted, panting. "A bit late to join the fight." "But the perfect time to take care of my brother and see for my own eyes the brutality Mathias has brought to magickind." "I'm fine." Ronan stumbled to his feet and brought Kari against him. "She saved my life." "And you ended those creatures. We're safe and alive." Because she was tough and tenacious, clever and strong. Because she'd refused to become anyone's victim and die easily. "And we succeeded together," he murmured, kissing her softly. "This is where I leave," Duke muttered grabbing a few of the bodies and disappearing. After he departed, Caden and Ice followed suit, each grabbing more of the fallen to haul them away. Marrok placed one hand on Caden's shoulder, and held three bodies with the other. In the next moment, the small group disappeared. Bram approached the twins, looking from one to the other before he fixed his gaze on Ronan. "Not bad for a first effort and no training. Want to join us permanently?" The fight would be dangerous and long and filled with struggle. He looked at Kari, who said, "I think you should. Forces like this can't be allowed to prevail. There's strength in numbers." "Exactly," Bram seconded, then looked at Ronan again, "So?" Slowly, he nodded, seeing their wisdom. "The cause is worthy and the battle necessary. I will." "And you?" Bram slanted a gaze at Raiden. His twin snorted. "Someone has to keep him out of trouble." "Our bond was invaluable today," Ronan said solemnly. "Thank you." Raiden sighed. "I might have wanted you to fuck off, but not forever. If you're going to join this war, I'll follow." Ronan's heart filled as he brought his twin close for a brotherly hug. After a moment, Raiden

returned the gesture. "Will she Bind to you now?" his brother asked softly in his ear. "I hope so. Will you accept her?" After a brief pause, he nodded. "If she makes you happy." "You will find your own happiness." Raiden pulled away with a tight, empty smile. "See to your woman. I will confer with Bram and inform you later." Ronan hated that his brother couldn't picture his own happiness, but time would hopefully reveal the path to him. "Thank you." Raiden and Bram collected the remaining bodies, then teleported away. "What was that about?" Kari asked. "An understanding." "Perhaps we can have one as well?" Tynan asked. "If you're going to join the Doomsday Brethren, we must learn acceptance and trust." Ronan's eyes narrowed. He had Called to Kari, and she had told him that she loved him and begged to Bind to him, not Tynan. He needed to keep that in mind. "You will maintain proper behavior with Kari." Tynan raised a dark brow. "She will be as she has ever been: the little sister I never had." "As you're the annoying big brother who tries to tell me how to run my life," Kari teased. In their exchange, he saw affection but not desire. Finally, the last of his worries eased away. "Very well. I sense we will need friends in the dark days ahead." "Indeed." Tynan shook his hand, then disappeared, leaving him and Kari blessedly alone. So many things he wished to say to her. After nearly losing his life--after nearly seeing Kari lose hers--he would not be losing her again. He needed her as his mate. Now. "Bind to me," he commanded softly. Her gaze tripped up to his, wide and startled. "What about the curse?" "Whether I'm cursed or not hardly matters. I now know that ten minutes with you is far better than an eternity without you. Avoiding you to avoid the pain only made me hurt worse. Every moment we have is precious. You are precious. I love you. Please, Bind to me." She smiled, and tears of joy seeped from the corners of her eyes. "As I become a part of you, you become a part of me. I will be honest, good, and true. I heed your Call. 'Tis you I seek. From this moment on, there is no other for me but you." Rightness settled across his skin, into his bones. This woman was meant for him, and he for her. Nothing would ever keep them apart again. "For one cursed, how did I get so lucky?" he asked softly, then pressed a kiss to her mouth. "How did we get so lucky?" "You're not cursed, and we're not lucky." With a mischievous smile, she pulled at his shirt until it fell to the ground. She did the same with her own. "We're fated." ### Visit www.shaylablack.com for more! Shayla Black's Doomsday Brethren series, published by Pocket Books:

TEMPT ME WITH DARKNESS Available now He's an immortal knight hungering for satisfaction... As soon as Marrok sees Olivia Gray, he's sure they met in eons past. He's felt her soft, gentle curves writhing in pleasure beneath his own powerful body ... Morganna! For centuries, towering Marrok, once the mightiest of King Arthur's warriors, has endured a terrible curse the witch cast upon him when he spurned the witch. She's a modern woman about to discover ancient magic... Olivia shares a mystical--and irresistible--connection with brooding Marrok. Soon after the sexy warrior appears in her erotic dreams, he abducts her, demanding she uncurse him. Their intense passion is more powerful--and intimate--than either of them has ever known. Olivia may be the key to unlocking the diary that will break Morganna's hold on his life. But in the wrong hands, the book also holds the power to destroy magickind. As they search for answers, a ruthless wizard returned from exile is building an army of evil. When he discovers Marrok and Olivia have the diary, only their love--with the help of a powerful group of magical Brethren-can save them. 5 out of 5! "TEMPT ME WITH DARKNESS is fast-paced, emotional and thoroughly addicting... a very strong first installment, and I find myself panting for more of this bold and sassy new series." --Romance Junkies SEDUCE ME IN SHADOW Available now When a villainous wizard escapes from exile, the devastatingly sexy Doomsday Brethren must defend all magickind in the spellbinding second book in bestselling author Shayla Black's seductive new paranormal series. Ex-Marine Caden MacTavish has shunned his magical heritage all his life, but he will do anything to heal his desperately ill brother, a Doomsday Brethren warrior in mourning for his missing mate. Posing as a photographer, Caden must convince firecracker tabloid reporter Sydney Blair to reveal the source of her recent exposé on a supernatural power clash. Unfortunately, keeping his hands off the sizzling redhead proves as hard as getting them onto the potent and mystical Doomsday Diary he discovers at her bedside. A bloody rebellion led by an evil, power-hungry wizard is imminent. If Sydney divulges the book's existence, she will jeopardize magickind's most deeply guarded secrets and become the ruthless wizard's number one target. Caden has never trusted magic's cruel and dangerous powers, but he will protect Sydney with his life and magic--even if it means risking his heart Recommended Read! "Emotionally charged conflict and sizzling sexual tension add to the page-turning quality of this paranormal suspense. Once again, Black delivers!" --Fallen Angel Reviews

POSSESS ME AT MIDNIGHT Available now An apocalypse approaches in the new novel from bestselling author Shayla Black's electrifying Doomsday Brethren series, as a magical warrior and a spirited witch ignite a smoldering passion that could destroy them both. As a mysterious dark cloud drains the life of her beloved brother, Doomsday Brethren leader Bram, Sabelle Rion can think of little else. Still, every time she meets Ice Rykard's intense green gaze, her body aches with need for the sexy warrior. Their attraction is explosive, incredible--and forbidden. As dangerous as he is unpredictable, Ice is her brother's sworn enemy. But as Bram weakens, a more sinister force is gaining power. Evil Mathias and his ruthless Anarki army are on a bloodthirsty hunt for the Doomsday Diary. Sabelle must guard the potent book with her life--and Ice vows to protect the beautiful witch with his. Duty demands that Sabelle deny her lover's fiery call of possession and mate with a man who can sway the magical Council against the impending rebellion. With the fate of magickind hanging in the balance, will she forsake the burning desires she can't ignore or turn her back on her people for the courageous man she can't resist? "I could not stop reading. POSSESS ME AT MIDNIGHT is absolutely perfect." --ParaNormal Romance Reviews "Mated" (HAUNTED BY YOUR TOUCH anthology) October 26, 2010 In the shadowy world of the Doomsday Brethren, magical warrior Raiden vows to protect his woman and their unborn youngling from evil--and deliver her safely to another man. But once he's saved her, can he let her go? "Black's 'Mated,' is sexy and exciting, featuring a well-matched couple..." --Publishers Weekly ENTICE ME AT TWILIGHT October 26, 2010 In national bestselling author Shayla Black's electrifying new novel, the Doomsday Brethren fight their mortal enemy for the newest weapon in a bloody magical war: the only woman a magical warrior shouldn't claim...and the one he can't resist. Dangerously handsome Simon Northam, Duke of Hurstgrove, and his uptight barrister brother hardly get along, but crashing Mason's wedding and stealing his fiancée take sibling rivalry to a new level. Duke's family knows nothing of his magical prowess or the Doomsday Brethren, so how can he explain that mankind's fate lies with the beautiful, tenacious bride he longs to seduce for himself?

Felicia is an Untouchable, a rare human whose presence disables magic--even the impenetrable forces surrounding Morganna le Fay's tomb. The evil witch's malicious powers could propel nefarious wizard Mathias to ultimate world domination ... if he can resurrect her. To conceal herself, Felicia must heed her simmering desires to mate with Duke, but he risks binding his life--and sanity--to a lover whose loyalty may be forever torn. He faces a terrible choice: betray his brother for ultimate survival ... or lose the woman who tempts him beyond control. EMBRACE ME AT DAWN February 2012 TEMPT ME WITH DARKNESS Doomsday Brethren, Book 1 CHAPTER ONE Present day - England Beside the lush banks of a pond, a woman beckoned, familiar. Yet Marrok of Cadbury had never seen her face in his life. Vivid grass and multi-colored flowers rioted around her. A cityscape towered in the background. None of that held his gaze rapt. Her bare-to-the-skin nakedness and dangerous beauty did. The woman's sable hair swept over one pale shoulder, curling under the swell of a generous breast topped by a berry nipple--and framing a birthmark he knew well. She no longer possessed the platinum tresses into which he'd once thrust his hands. Her new face was delicate--higher cheekbones, pert nose, pillowy mouth--but the siren could not disguise herself from him. Black lashes fluttered over violet eyes that had long haunted his nightmares. Morganna. Lust crashed into him, a battering ram to the gut. Need stiffened his cock. He wanted her as he never had, with a frightening desperation. Bollocks! Was he daft enough to let her lure him to further doom? Acid hatred mixed with clawing desire. He tried to look away, but his gaze caressed her small waist, her curved hips, the moist flesh between her thighs glistening. Luminous, her smile coaxed him to touch her, challenged him to walk away. Marrok didn't--couldn't--do either. Morganna bewitched him more now than she had on their wind-drenched night of shared pleasure an eon ago. The strawberry mark low between her breasts brought back memories of pale moonlight surrounding them as he'd succumbed to temptation and swived her senseless. For that mistake, he'd paid dearly. With the last fifteen centuries. Mist swirled around her like the mystical fog of legend, as if caressing her. Though she was deadly, Morganna in this new form captivated him. Today, society had clinical terms for his obsession. He cared not. Getting the treacherous bitch to release him from his hell... Nothing else mattered. With an alluring curl of her fingers, she summoned him. Marrok gritted his teeth. To yield

would only mean further torture. But his body betrayed him, inching closer, his cock swelling painfully. Cursing, he closed his eyes. If he must resist her to be free, he feared he was doomed. Marrok opened his eyes as a fresh rush of desire slammed him. Want was a luxury; this woman he needed. The feeling was as new as a baby's first breath...and as welcome as the plague. And likely illusory, merely one of Morganna's tricks. Though he dug his fingers into his thighs, her haunting eyes pleaded with him. Marrok very nearly surrendered to the urge to touch her. Then she waved her hand. Suddenly, she clutched to her naked breasts the ornate red book he knew meant the difference between his life and death, and she backed away. Nay! Marrok launched himself at her. They fell to the ground in a tangle of breaths, arms, and legs. The book fell beside them, its maddening lock still firmly closed. Before he could grab it, she latched slender arms around his neck and arched, distracting him with her lush curves. "Marrok, love me." Her plea spiked his fevered lust. He ached to sink deep into her. But he had to resist this fatal woman. Somehow. "Release me," he growled. She clung tighter, then writhed against his erection. By God, she was wet. He was on fire for her. A heartbeat from explosion. A mere moment from forgetting how treacherous she was. "Open the book!" "You want me." Her whisper made him shiver. Why deny that? A waste of time and breath. As she wriggled under him, lightning chased across his skin. Like a fool, he thrust against her and groaned. The need to utterly possess her screamed through him. Later, he'd remember all the reasons he could not. Marrok dropped his hands to her thighs and pried them wider. "If you tempt me thus, you will take what I give you. All I give you." "Anything." Morganna's nipples burned his chest as he lifted her legs over his arms. From one instant to the next, his clothes melted away and he poised himself at her entrance. Groaning, he buried his face in her fragrant neck. Incredible. Inevitable. More intoxicating than ever. Marrok had sworn never to touch Morganna again--a promise he had kept for centuries--but now...he had to be inside her. "Everything..." she encouraged. As he surged forward, Morganna grabbed the book. Desire chained him; he could not move, not even to snatch it from her grasp. With a wave of her pale hand, Morganna unlocked the volume. The cover fell open, revealing a hint of its pages, as she faded away. "Give it to me!" He shouted at fog. She--and the book--were gone. Again, she'd used her power against him. Desire sizzled deep within, but he was, as ever, cursed. Desolation slashed him, leaving his soul to bleed. His anguish made no sense. He'd never mourn Morganna's loss. He would, in fact, spit on her grave if she had one.

"I am the key." Her soft entreaty swept through the wind. "Find me." Marrok dragged himself to his feet, suppressing a primal scream. He must hunt her. That cityscape behind the pond he recognized as London. There, he could find her. His torment would never end without that book--and without a taste of her flesh. Around him, something rattled. Marrok sat up with a startled gasp, his bed rumpled, eyes wide. Panting, he scanned his surroundings. Bare walls, carved bed. A sword beside his hand. Glock under his pillow. His cottage, not a mist-draped clearing. No Morganna. The book! Marrok whipped his gaze around. On his bedside table rested the leather-bound tome. The vehicle of his never-ending torment, the key to his freedom, was still here and still locked. It had been but a dream. Or perhaps a message? Though it had been centuries, Morganna had once enjoyed reaching from her exile to taunt him in sleep. He dared not disregard the message--she had returned to this mortal realm as an ethereal brunette, able to unlock the volume and intent on thieving it. He rose, determined to find the sorceress in her new disguise. She alone could end the torture of his ages-old existence. Shadow and torment her he would, until she granted him what he wanted most in life. Death. A sharp rap against the cottage's front window startled Marrok--the same sound that had awakened him. He hadn't had a visitor in a decade, and preferred it that way. Guests were both unexpected and unwelcome. Marrok slid the book into the safe hidden beneath loose floorboards in his bedroom, then took up his sword and stalked down the hall. As he slid around the corner, his heart raced with the anticipation of impending battle. Morning sunlight seeped through the window, illuminating dust motes and casting a human shadow onto the gleaming wooden floor. If someone had come to take the book from him, he would greet them with bloodshed. Marrok crept forward, crouched for attack. The shadow disappeared. A faint crunch of footsteps outside replaced the silhouette. He slipped toward the door silently, weapon in hand. "Hey, freak of nature," a familiar male voice called from outside, punctuated by another knock. "Are you in there?" Heaving an annoyed sigh, Marrok yanked the door open to find a nightmare nearly as bad as the one that had awakened him. Golden hair spiked above sleek brows and wicked blue eyes. A glittery Hollywood smile belied the gifted wizard's immense power. Bram Rion. Marrok groaned. Now he would never have any peace. "Are you calling me a freak of nature? Coming from you, that is rich." "If today is your day to conduct beheadings, count me out." Bram flashed the million-dollar smile that had seduced magickind into seeing things his way for four hundred years. Marrok frowned and propped his sword against a nearby wall. Bram paused outside. "Are you going to invite me past the magic circle guarding your place or must I continue to stand on the mat?" "If I do not?" Marrok challenged, raising a dark brow. He was heartily tempted not to. The magical coxcomb amused him at times...but Marrok didn't dare trust him. "If you don't let me past, I can't tell you something juicy..." Bram would not go away until he spilled his secret, though Marrok cared little what the wizard had to say. He must find Morganna in her new guise, then force, coerce, or beg her into

unlocking that accursed book and setting him free. "Enter," he huffed. Bram stepped inside and shut the door behind him. "You look like hell. Did you sleep in yesterday's trousers?" Marrok stared at his rumpled chinos. "Did you come all this way to be my mum?" "If you need one..." Bram shrugged, mischief lurking in his eyes. "What the hell do you want? Say it and be gone," Marrok demanded, striding to his room to snatch a fresh T-shirt and old jeans out of a drawer. Then he trekked across the hall to his bathroom. Bram followed, lingering outside after Marrok slammed the door in his face. After donning fresh clothes, he turned to a mirror and slid a brush through his dark hair. Ancient eyes stared back at him, filled with misery, anger, and thwarted lust. He did look like hell. "To talk to you," Bram said through the door. "You know that only something gravely important could bring me to the Creepified Forest." "Important to magickind." Not necessarily important to him. "Since I'm the only friend you have, it's important to you, as well." "I have no friends." Marrok pictured Bram gritting his teeth. He smiled. "All right, then. I am the only living being who knows of your immortality and still speaks to you." Marrok grunted and reached for his toothbrush. "I am not interested. I must hunt." "The local market too civilized for your Dark Ages upbringing?" Marrok wrenched open the bathroom door, staring at Bram as if he were a bloodsucking insect. "Is magickind so starved for a comedian that you suffice?" Bram sighed. "I really have come for a reason." Though the wizard loved to antagonize him, Marrok knew the darling of magickind would not visit without cause. "You will only pester me until I give in. Why are you here?" "Because I've had a vision." Vision. Being in the same room with anything or anyone magical was enough to give him hives. Having Bram around was like a permanent case of leprosy. "Why tell me? You must have a magical healer for this sort of thing." "Because when it comes true, it will involve you." "I involve myself in nothing." He shouldered past Bram and headed for the kitchen. "And all of magickind knows it. Ever heard of the Book of Doomsday?" "Nay." "It's also called the Doomsday Diary." His uninvited guest placed his hand on Marrok's shoulder. Immediately, he sensed a tightening under his forehead, then between the temples. Bloody hell, the bastard was trying to sneak into his thoughts. Marrok jerked away and slammed a mental door between them. Bram reared back in surprise, speculation on his face. Clearly, humans were often unable to block him from their minds. But Marrok hadn't survived half of forever without learning a few tricks. "Never have I heard of the accursed book by either name. Do not touch me or attempt to invade my head again, or I will slice you in two." "It would be amusing for you to try, human." The wizard snorted. "You've never seen the

book? It's red with gilt inlays, and is small, ornate, and very old." That sounded like ... Marrok shoved the thought away, lest Bram read it. No reason to add fuel to his fire. "You do know something." Excitement revved up Bram's face. "All magickind knows of the Book of Doomsday. It's part of our folklore. I thought you might know of the book because my grandfather's nemesis created it." "I did not know Merlin well. Why should I know of his enemies?" "Well, Morganna was your lover." Marrok grimaced. "You have confused a one-time sating of lust with a real bond." "She's the reason you're immortal. She cursed you with the book, didn't she?" By hell's fire, how could Bram know that? "I know naught of it." "You're lying." "Shove off!" Marrok stomped to the door, opened it, and gestured with a wave. "A moment more..." The wizard sent him a sober stare. "I want to share my vision with you." "Of?" "The future. Watch." "Keep your visions to yourself, you droning codpiece." Bram ignored him, grabbed his arm, and waved a hand in front of his face. A picture appeared before Marrok's eyes. He fell into it, unable to back away. Nighttime. A darkened home, once sprawling and lovely, now decayed. A small mass of people walked toward it. Some were clad in gray robes trimmed in red. Others wore normal dress and oddly vacant stares. Intrigued against his will, Marrok peered closer, then reeled back in shock. The people in robes dragged the others toward the house with ropes about their necks. The air of excitement surrounding the berobed was palpable. "Who are the people dressed like friars?" he asked. "Definitely not clergy. They're part of the Anarki." Marrok flinched. Even in his isolation, he'd known of the chaos and fear they'd created in their rise to power two centuries ago. Once inside the run-down manor, a man in robes waited in an empty room, surrounded by a circle of flickering candles. His face obscured, he hovered over the still body of a naked man who, if human, looked to be about thirty. "Who lies there?" Marrok asked Bram. "Mathias d'Arc." Even a seasoned warrior like Marrok shuddered at the name. Mathias was the magical equivalent of Genghis Khan, Caligula, Vlad Dracula and Hannibal Lecter rolled into one. Cruel, clever, hedonistic, rapacious. Brilliantly evil. A wizard of great power and no conscience, Mathias wouldn't be happy until everyone in his path was either enslaved or dead. "What are the Anarki about?" Marrok hissed. "Watch." As the group entered the shadowed room, they formed a circle around the candles, pushing some of the entranced people inside, closer to Mathias, who lay still as death. The robed wizard who had been waiting stood at Mathias's head and raised his arms. "We, the Deprived, have waited centuries for this night. The Privileged will hear our thunder and feel only terror until they give us all they've denied our kind. Until the 'Social Order' laws prohibiting any with 'undesirable' traits and bloodlines from holding vital positions are dissolved, they will

know war and pain and death. They do not know that we, the faithful, have waited for salvation. Tonight, our patience will be rewarded." A cheer went up from those in robes. The others were silent. From a distant part of the house, a clock chimed low and loud, gong, gong, gong ... Twelve times. The room seemed to hold its collective breath. Then silence. Mathias's eyes opened wide. Around him, the candles flickered. His followers gasped. The ceremony leader knelt, then whispered reverently, "You've returned!" "My faithful Anarki..." Mathias's voice was thin and strained. "My sleeping draught fooled the Brethren but you believed in me. They thought me dead?" "Very much so," the first replied. "Excellent. Did they all pass into their nextlife?" "Within days of your sleep." "Your name?" "Zain Denzell." "Your father served me well." Mathias smiled. "You have brought me what I need?" Zain nodded eagerly, then stepped around the circle, wending through the unresponsive bodies in street clothes. Finally, he grabbed a paunching, middle-aged man and a young woman with blond ringlets in a cotton dressing gown and thrust them forward. "Lovely. MacKinnetts?" Mathias asked. "Yes. The Council member's brother and his untransitioned daughter. You must be starved." Mathias nodded, eyeing the blonde. "Indeed. Take the woman to my chamber. I will see to her very soon." A robed servant did so. Marrok, watching, held his breath. Groaning and straining, Mathias rolled to one side, facing the older man. Reaching for the center of his chest, Mathias snapped. The man blinked and gasped, then opened alert eyes. "Oh good God!" He tried to scramble back. "You!" "Me." Mathias smiled weakly. Two others in robes caught the old man. "Shall we hold him?" one asked, his voice shaking with enthusiasm to serve. "Yes. We must prove that the order of magickind is changing." The MacKinnett continued to resist as Mathias struggled to his feet, then gripped the man's throat. "No. No!" The man scratched out. "Please..." "Shut up! Were I not so starved for energy, I would draw out your punishment. Your anger and fear will provide me a bit. Your niece, with her young, ripe body, will provide me much more. Delicious." Beside him, Zain nodded. "Please, no," MacKinnett babbled. "Auropha is a sweet girl with her whole life ahead of her. She knows nothing of peril or pain--" "Then I'd best see to her education soon." Mathias peered at the MacKinnett lord. With a feral grin, he laid a hand across the man's chest. Immediately, MacKinnett started screaming. A film of blood oozed from his pores, seeping through his yellow shirt. He turned white, kicking and flailing. Then his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He slumped over, dead.

With a wave, Zain removed the older man's shirt, and Mathias's mark spread across his entire chest like a series of infected boils. \\/\/// "A job well done," Mathias said to Zain. "Now I will adjourn upstairs with the girl and restore myself fully. Her rage and fear will intoxicate me with power." "Dear God, he's going to rape the girl, then kill her, as he did her uncle?" Marrok asked, appalled. "A death like her uncle's would be a kindness. What she will endure will be worse. Much worse." Marrok looked at all the berobed followers standing about. "Will no one help her?" "Who? The Deprived of magickind are 'punishing her' because she is Privileged. Mathias will use her to re-energize his magic and make an example of her." Recoiling, Marrok reached for his sword. He had never condoned the rape and torture of innocents in battle. Mathias must be stopped. But when he rose to his feet, Bram pulled him back down. "You can't race into my vision. It hasn't happened yet. Watch. There's more to see." "The MacKinnett chit is a spitfire," Zain said to Mathias. "She will give you a great deal of energy." "Excellent. Tomorrow, send the dead to their family. It's time for the Privileged to know their worst nightmare has returned." "I will see to it." "And the other matter?" "We're still looking." "I must have that book. With it, what I can do is nearly limitless." "The Anarki will do whatever it takes. I vow it." The vision turned black. Bram released Marrok slowly. He blinked, returning to the here and now. Then he glared at Bram. "Bloody hell! You say that has not yet come to pass?" "Not yet." Marrok released a relieved breath. "Then it may not. You have no proof." "Except the fact I've never been wrong in my life." Marrok prayed that was an overconfident boast and resented the horror Bram had made him feel for the brutalized MacKinnetts. "Why do you imagine I care?" "This problem is going to knock on your door. Soon." "Because Mathias seeks this Doomsday Diary, which you think I possess?" "Yes. No other book would give him half so much power. With it, all he must do is write his destructive wishes on a blank page to bring about any tragedy he wants--even Doomsday itself." Perhaps Bram told the truth...and perhaps he'd created the horrific scene to manipulate Marrok into releasing the book so he could use it for his own ends. Everyone knew Bram was an ambitious knave. Mathias would first have to unlock the book to be able to use it...but as magical as he was, maybe he could. "Certainly you can see that finding and safeguarding the book is imperative," Bram went on. "Will you help me?" "Cast a spell to ensure he can do no harm." "Nice thought, but magic doesn't work like that. Mathias is born of a powerful bloodline with a strong tendency to produce sociopaths. As you saw, he gorges on others' pain and terror--even

forced pleasure. Those facts make him very strong. And if he returns, he has magical defenses we can only guess at. Please. Give me the book." Marrok grabbed the wizard by his prissy Ralph Lauren collar and shoved him against the wall. He did not trust the wizard for an instant. As Merlin's grandson, he was packed with powerfully magical genes. Marrok did not subscribe to the theory that his enemy's enemy was his friend. "Speak no more of the book to me or you will feel my blade in your belly!" Bram shrugged out of his hold, clearly undeterred, and straightened his shirt. "I'll take that as a no. Pity. A lot of people are going to die. But then, you see death as a blessing, don't you?" "Even if the book were within my grasp, why would I give it to you?" "Because it will save you pain. Mathias will come for you once he realizes you possess it." Bram crossed into the living area, where he sank into an overstuffed chair, propping booted feet on the table. Marrok clenched his jaw. "I know naught." "Play dumb if you want, then." Bram flashed a brittle smile. "But I have another reason for coming here. There's someone I want you to meet, the owner of a new art gallery." Socializing was the last thing he had time for with Morganna returned from exile. "Nay." "This is a stellar opportunity. The place is called A Touch of Magic." Swinging his feet to the ground, he leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "It's very fresh, and recently opened--" "Naught you say of that interests me. I need a ride to London." "You? Facing civilization? Willingly?" Bram's jaw hit his chest. "I seek a woman." "Planning to test the limits of your curse again?" How did Bram know of that? Nosy coxcomb. Marrok resisted the urge to tear the wizard's head off--barely. "Shut your mouth before I shut it for you." Bram laughed. "The last woman you took to your bed disappeared for two days. That was a decade ago, wasn't it?" "Not another word." Crossing his arms over his chest again, Bram smiled. "I hear you astound humans and put even magical men to shame. But you're never quite...satisfied, are you?" Marrok refused to admit to Bram that he could not find satisfaction in sex, no matter how many women he bedded, how many orgasms he gave, or how close he came to achieving his own release. It would only give the wizard something new with which to torment him. "When you meet the gallery's owner, you may want to try your luck again. Olivia Gray already loves your carvings and she is quite dishy. Her magical signature is...interesting." "She's one of your kind? Absolutely not! I seek one woman in particular." "Oh, this is intriguing. You actually know a woman? You haven't left this place in years. Did you meet her in a 'hot babes' chat room?" Again, Bram clapped him on the shoulder, and Marrok felt the wizard trying to steal into his thoughts. Wrenching away, he marched to the sword, lifted the weapon and whipped it through the air with a menacing whoosh. "Cease your infernal invasion!" Bram inched back. "Tell me about this woman. Maybe I can help." The only help Bram would ever give him was a push into hell. "I know what she looks like, if not the name she uses now. I will find her." "Hmm. Old flame?" Old flame, old enemy. "Take me to London."

"I'll take you wherever you wish to go." Bram paused. "After you meet Olivia. She's very interested in your art, and I promised her an introduction." Marrok reined in his frustration, wishing Bram would choose another day to be difficult. Or better yet, another target. His dream, the omen that could set him free, had finally arrived. Morganna was running loose somewhere in London. He would make the witch release him from hell. "Antagonizing me amuses you, but I will not play today." "That's my offer. Take it or leave it." Bram shrugged, looking totally unapologetic. "Unless you want to hand over the book?" Gripping the sword tighter, Marrok arched a brow. The damn Book of Doomsday wasn't leaving his possession until he discerned exactly how he must use it to end his curse. There was just one way, according to Morganna, and he would find it. Besides, putting the bloody thing in the hands of someone magical was putting the fox in charge of the henhouse. "Guess not." Bram smiled tightly. "In that case, I hope you enjoy meeting Ms. Gray. I've shown her a few pictures of the pieces you sold in the past. She's very impressed. I've already arranged a meeting for you two this morning. Won't take long. Then the rest of the day is yours." When Marrok resisted, Bram added, "Come now, you must have pieces to sell." Aye. In the last three months, he'd carved his best work ever. Marrok's gaze cut across the room to rest on a three-foot rendering of King Arthur and his enemy Mordred locked in mortal combat. Merlin and Morganna each hovered behind their champions, spinning magic to help their knights win. Crossing the floor to the sculpture, Marrok stared at the angles of Morganna's wooden likeness. Fear, fury, and a flash of desire tightened his gut. How could he have been so foolish as to tangle with that magical bitch? Soon it would end. Today, he would hunt her down and demand answers, even if he had to wring them from her pretty neck. He was unsure where to begin the search, but somehow he knew this feeling, her looming presence, would guide him. Prying his gaze from the carving, he turned to the door. "Fifteen minutes. No more." "Smashing. But until you give me the Doomsday Diary..." Bram grinned, "I'm your new best friend." * As soon as Bram parked three blocks off of Oxford Street, Marrok bolted from the hated automobile's small confines. Warriors did not travel in motorized death traps, by God. They trekked through the gloom of London's gray morning to a narrow little shop that a purple and gilt sign proclaimed A Touch of Magic. With a cynical grunt, Marrok stared through the picture window. A clay rendering of Pegasus took up most of the display space. He studied the piece critically. The sculpture had symmetry, but lacked life and movement. As Bram opened the door, an electronic chime heralded their arrival. Two steps later, a wave of musky incense slammed his senses. That and the strains of a passionate ballad surged through him. Across his skin, awareness burned and tingled. A woman had recently stood here. An enticing mix of light perfume over natural scent told him thus. He inhaled peaches and vanilla. The clatter of beads in a doorway at the back of the store brought his gaze across the room. A

woman emerged, carrying an armload of boxes. He caught a glimpse of windswept dark hair and a fragile profile before she turned to deposit the load on the counter along the back wall. Familiar movements seized his breath. Marrok willed the woman to face him. Instead, she unpacked, swaying in time with the Celtic tune piping through the room. A dangerous slash of desire sliced his gut. "Olivia?" Bram called above the music. She turned and smiled at the wizard. The sight was an invisible fist slamming into Marrok. "Bram, thanks for coming by." Her distinctly American voice rang in Marrok's head as she shut off the music. "I know you're busy. Did you get my message last week?" "I did. Sorry. I haven't heard anything more about your father. I'll ask again. Nothing new from the investigator?" Her shoulders slumped. "No, just an address for a crazy man who claims to be nearly five hundred years old. I'll keep looking. I moved here to find him, and I'm not giving up." As if just realizing they weren't alone, Olivia peeked around Bram at Marrok. The welcome on her face faltered, fell. She covered lush lips with her hand and stared as if the sight of him shocked her. He could hardly be more shocked himself. Delicate cheeks, a slightly pointed chin, and those bloody haunting eyes. Morganna's eyes in the face from this morning's dream. Recognition jolted his every nerve. She looked back at Bram. "Is this...?" "Of course. I told you I'd deliver." Bram shoved him toward her. Normally, he'd growl at the wizard for touching him. Today, his attention was fixed on Olivia. Or rather, Morganna. The one woman who could end his curse. He had not believed she could make herself as beautiful as the woman in his dream. He had underestimated his opponent. That alone made her more deadly, to say nothing of the power she had surely gathered over the centuries. She looked so young, barely twenty. Though her youth was an illusion, she made him feel ancient. Bram turned to him. "Marrok, this is Olivia Gray." She paused. Her hand dropped from her mouth, and she bit her bottom lip. For such calculated hesitation, the gesture looked natural. But Morganna never displayed vulnerability without a trap looming close behind. Finally, she extended her hand to him. Marrok stared, wanting nothing less than to touch her--and nothing more. A film of sweat broke out across his skin. Oh, how she must be laughing. But the centuries had taught Marrok to play her game. Pasting on a shark's smile, he enfolded her hand in his. Electricity shot across his palm, up his arm, rocking him to his soul. In that instant, his cock hardened. Blast it all, with one small touch she bewitched him, exactly like his dream... Only stronger. Olivia's eyes widened. Grim satisfaction seeped through him. "Ms. Gray." She quickly withdrew her hand. "I--it's nice to meet you. Bram has told me about you. Actually, about your talent," she clarified. "The pictures I've seen are very impressive." Morganna had never cared about his carving, only for his reputation on the battlefield and in the bedroom. This pretense of interest infuriated him. What game did the witch play?

Looking flustered, she glanced Bram's way. "Where is that piece you brought?" Bram asked him. He'd been so focused on Morganna, he had forgotten it. "In your car." Bram's gaze bounced from Marrok to Olivia, then back again. "Well, then, I'll...go get it. You two get acquainted." * The door chime signaling Bram's departure sounded loudly in the room's silence. But Olivia never looked away from Marrok. Her heart zoomed into hyperspeed. He stared as if he knew her, could see inside her. As if he were utterly aware that, just that morning, she had dreamed of being naked and wet for him, begging for his touch. When his sharp perusal swept down her body, she had the distinct impression Marrok knew he'd starred in her erotic fantasy. His scrutiny didn't seem sexual...exactly. Still, she flushed and tingled in some interesting places. He didn't return the interest, of course. Most men weren't aroused by an odd-looking woman with nearly-black hair and purple eyes who resembled an extra from an Elvira Halloween spectacular. Doubtful that a prime male like Marrok would be enticed by her. He stood at least six feet four. His door frame-wide shoulders bulged, straining the seams of his black T-shirt. The fists bunched at his sides were huge. A shaggy mane of dark hair framed his haunted, hollow-cheeked face, accented by a neatly-trimmed goatee and unfathomable bluegray eyes. His mouth twisted in a mysterious smile, as if he knew he made her nervous. Olivia restrained the urge to toy with the bangles on her wrist. Marrok was a temperamental artist. Period. She owned an art gallery, her dream since she'd been a moody teenager living a nomadic life with her cold, overprotective mother. If she wanted to keep this place afloat, she'd better stop mooning and do business. "I'd like to carry your carvings here," she said. "I think you have a great deal of talent. I could help you make a tidy sum." He raised a dark, disquieting brow. "Money does not interest me." Really? "Prestige, then? Recognition. Is that what you want?" He stepped closer, loomed above her. If his aim was to intimidate her with his sheer size...score. One of his biceps was as thick as her thigh. "I do not seek recognition." His tone was dangerous and rough. She'd never been so aware of being alone with a man. Of course, she'd never dreamed of being naked and aching for a major hunk, then meeting him in the flesh. But they were here for business; she had to concentrate. Suppressing a shiver, she squared her shoulders. "You must want something in exchange for your work. Tell me what, and I'll--" "You know what I want." He clamped large, heated fingers around her hips. An unexpected rush of energy burst through her, like she'd been jolted with a live wire. Scary. Sexual. He couldn't mean it to be. Her head snapped back. Those pale eyes, framed by thick black lashes, drew her without mercy. His scent, woodsy and wild, went straight to her knees. Damn it, she didn't know him, and he was touching her. Why wasn't she afraid? Or at least annoyed by the one-sided lust? "No, I don't."

"You lie." His fingers tightened, and he brought her closer. Their bodies brushed, his heat crashing into her. Was he...? Yes, erect. Oh God. Maybe the lust wasn't one-sided... Shocked to her toes, she raised a shaking hand to his chest to ward him off. He was like living, breathing stone. Everywhere. "Stop," she breathed. His mouth sharpened into a dangerous slash. "Stop what?" "Touching me." Confusing me. "Don't." Marrok released her. Almost magically, the spell over her senses lifted. Energy seeped from her body in a rush. Common sense and anger returned. "We're discussing business." She tried for hard-nosed professional, not trembling virgin. "I'm offering to sell your work and give you half the profits. But that does not give you the right to put your hands on me." Frankly, she was stunned that he wanted to. Crossing his arms over his massive chest, Marrok sent her a contemplative stare. "Touching you was a mistake." Of course it had been. The door chime sounded, startling Olivia. She jerked her gaze around as Bram entered, silently damning the fact he'd returned sixty seconds too late. "Found the carving," Bram called victoriously, gripping a wooden statue Olivia couldn't see around his big hands. "Looked all over the car, forgetting we'd stashed it in the boot." Neither responded to Bram. Olivia knew she should reach for the carving, but she watched Marrok warily. His eyes were riveted on her, blazing. Anger, and something else--lust?--bled from him. The combination was bleak, powerful, inexplicable, impossible... She stepped back. "Now that you've heard my offer, shall we do business?" Olivia asked. Marrok leaned close once more. "I would rather bed down with the devil. I trust him more." Turning on one heel, he crossed the room and flung the door open. The chime sounded, drowned out by the door crashing against the wall. Olivia jumped as Marrok stalked outside. She frowned. Had he been shafted by a gallery owner before? Or did he resent the fact that, for a moment, he'd found the unusual woman arousing? That possibility shouldn't hurt anymore...but it did. "That's bloody odd," Bram exclaimed. "What did you argue about?" "I don't know." Bram frowned, handing her the carving. "Here, take this. I'll have a chat with him. No worries." Olivia started to tell Bram not to bother. Then she looked at the carving in her hand. A fawn. She could swear that, at any moment, she would see its legs would wobble as it learned to walk. Its soulful eyes amazed her. Marrok's talent...wow. And this was just a tiny slice of it. She closed her mouth. He would thrill art lovers. It didn't matter if she disquieted him. Thankfully, she was used to artists' quirks. She'd place his work on her shelves...or her business would soon go under. She needed that money to stay in England, to pay the detective and find the father she'd never met. Once she discovered what motivated Marrok, she'd work with him--no matter how difficult. "Perfect. I want to see him again, as soon as possible."

Like a spicy read? Look for the Wicked Lovers series, published by Berkley HEAT WICKED TIES Available now She didn't know what she wanted until he made her beg for it... Morgan O'Malley has seen a lot of kinky things as the hostess of a cable sex talk show. But she's never met a man like Jack Cole before. A self-proclaimed dominant, he's as alpha as a male can get–and good for Morgan to have around when an obsessed stalker ratchets up his attempts to get to her. Though Jack is a bodyguard, Morgan feels anything but safe in his presence. Because slowly and seductively, Jack is bringing her deepest fantasies to the surface. And when he bends her to his will, what's more shocking than her surrender is how much she enjoys it–and starts to crave his masterful touch. A willing player in Jack's games, Morgan knows that his motives aren't pure, but she has no idea how personal they are... DECADENT Available now Two men are better than one... How can a virgin seeking happily-ever-after with a hot pop star who has a penchant for threesomes win her fantasy man? Kimber Edgington desperately needs a plan to convince Jesse McCall, who's been her friend and secret crush since they spent a summer together as teenagers, that they are meant for each other. But all the tabloid stories about his sexual escapades make her feel oh-so inadequate. Determined to prove she's woman enough for Jesse, Kimber turns to bodyguard Deke Trenton for sexual education. Bold and brash, Deke warns Kimber that playing with him is playing with fire. But he can't bear to imagine the innocent beauty in someone else's arms. So Deke and his super-sexy friend, Luc, take Kimber under their wings and dangerously close to the edge of ecstasy. Though she's saved herself for Jesse, Kimber soon learns, he's not the man adept at stoking her aching, endless need. That's Deke, and he can't resist when Kimber begs for more– and more... DELICIOUS Available now He can't control his desire. Luc Traverson's entire future is planned out--but there is one very sexy obstacle in his path: Alyssa Devereaux . She's a former exotic dancer turned strip club owner and restaurateur. Recently, Alyssa and Luc shared one night of wild abandon that left Luc terrified by his loss of self-control--and Alyssa desperate for more. And that's just the way she wants it. Fulfilling a promise, Luc is the guest chef for Alyssa's restaurant debut. The sight of her makes Luc wild, so how can he survive a week without letting loose and ravaging her--especially

when she's begging for it? Luc's desire for her explodes when he realizes he isn't the only man desperate to have her. But one of the others is deadly. And that's not the end of Alyssa's secrets...which are as dark and mysterious and enticing as her fantasies. SURRENDER TO ME March 1, 2011 A secret fantasy. Hunter had everything until a bullet iced his career as a Navy SEAL. Restless and uncertain about his future, he accepts an intriguing proposition: share an acquaintance's girlfriend and fulfill her fantasy of a ménage. It should have been just a night of sexual adventure between three consenting adults. But Kata is like no other girl Hunter has ever met. By turns audacious and sexy, then vulnerable and aloof, she's a heartbreaker he's determined to master. But he needs more than one night. And he wants to do it alone. An uncontrollable obsession. Kata never expected to leave her comfortable relationship and explore something so dangerously forbidden with a stranger. Hard as she tries to resist, the guilty pleasure overwhelms her, and she surrenders herself, inch by inch, to the hardcore man who wants her for himself. Consumed by blazing desire, they're soon threatened by the shadows of the past. And now to keep Kata safe, Hunter makes her a bold proposition of his own. Saying yes will destroy her heart. But saying no could cost Kata her life. BELONG TO ME October 2011 WICKED TIES Wicked Lovers, Book 1 Excerpt Have you ever wanted to put yourself in the hands of a man whose sole purpose is to give you pleasure? The words flashed across Morgan O'Malley's laptop screen. She sucked in a sharp, shocked breath. She'd met this man in an online chatroom less than three minutes ago. How could he know that? He must have guessed, had to have guessed. She hadn't told him anything about herself, not one single thing, except her name and the fact she wanted to interview him for her cable TV show. But even through her stunned silence, he kept peeling back the layers of her secrets. Do you want a man to see inside you, all the way to your fantasies, the darkest ones you don't even tell your friends about, and make every one of them come true? A surge of arousal coiled in her belly. Her palms began to sweat. Morgan swallowed hard. In the silent living room shadowed with the many colors of dusk, Morgan squirmed on the black leather sofa, shoving desires she didn't dare admit to the back of her mind.

This was business. He was business. It wasn't a good idea to have the hots for the next interview subject for her show. It might be late-night cable talk, but Turn Me On was her job, her brainchild, her little rebellion ... her life. Besides, aching for a guy whose real name she didn't even know, whose face she'd never seen--whose lifestyle she shouldn't even ponder--was just dumb. So, Master J, is that what a dominant does? she typed in response, determined to keep the conversation light. Dish out fantasies? One of the things, he responded at length. But that would be oversimplifying the relationship. His most important goal is to earn his partner's trust. Trust is important in any relationship, but especially in one involving Dominance/submission. Without that, how can a woman freely put herself in a man's care and know that her well-being and safety will always be first? How can she know her master will understand her so he can make her every wicked fantasy come true? Dominance wasn't just about tying someone to the bed and screwing them into the mattress? Surprise wrinkled Morgan's brow. Trust, care, understanding--she had to admit, that all sounded like a fantasy in itself. Certainly, she'd been lacking those qualities in her relationship with her ex-fiancé, Andrew, especially the understanding. Trust allows a woman to connect with the primitive part of her that craves the utter surrender of being at her master's mercy, despite not knowing if plans for her involve pleasure, pain, or both. Morgan couldn't deny that Master J intrigued her even more now than when one of the production assistants, Reggie, had given her his bio. Toggling to her email, she opened the bio she'd been given and scanned it again. A member of the BDSM and D/s scene for nearly ten years, Master J is experienced in all facets, but continues to learn. He owns a personal security company and has been bodyguard to senators, international diplomats, and athletes. A West Point graduate, he also served in military Special Forces as a team leader before being honorably discharged. Morgan clicked the email closed. The paragraph revealed a lot about the man whose words made her shiver with dark fantasies. Self-discipline, honor, strength. Yet the blurb said very little at the same time. Who was this guy? Could he really bind and tease a woman into making her beg? Morgan? Her name flashed across the screen. You still there? Sorry. Just thinking. Clearly, I have a lot to learn about in order to do the show properly. I guess I thought it was all about velvet ropes and handcuffs. It's about that, too. She laughed, pushing down the ache curling in her belly...and lower. A little curiosity didn't make her depraved. Definitely not. It was just interesting to see how the other half lived. But it's also an exchange of power and trust, he typed. A woman chooses to give her master dominion over her body and her mind. She surrenders her flesh and free will to anything and everything he desires. What sort of surrender? a voice inside of her demanded to know. A thousand dark images pushed themselves into her brain from the depths of her fantasies: her kneeling to this stranger's cock, him ordering her to spread her legs wide so he could simply look at her, her bound to his bed as he prepared to take whatever he wanted. Disturbed by the shocking turn of her thoughts, she shook them away. And ignored her rapid

breathing. Lots of people had bondage fantasies at one time or another, she'd read. Having one or two herself was normal, no matter what Andrew said. Morgan squirmed against the leather cushions again, ignoring any extra moisture between her legs. But a D/s relationship is also about a lot more, Master J typed. How do you put someone in manacles, blindfolds, and dark rooms, but still earn their trust? How do you develop an emotionally gratifying relationship when one person has all the power? It's not like that. Morgan's gaze stayed riveted to her screen as she waited for more. For a long, silent moment, she held her breath...but nothing. Master J wasn't going to reply further. Just like in the bedroom, she supposed. He had the power to give or withhold. Finally, a longer reply appeared in the little chatroom window. Sorry, but I've had an urgent call. Have to go. If you feel I have the background to assist with your show, let's meet. I'll answer your questions then. Someplace public, so you don't worry I might be a serial killer luring you into danger. I can talk faster. I've mastered a lot, but not typing . I still hunt and peck. Morgan scuttled her impatience. Not hard when the man made her smile at his jokes. I understand, she answered. Can we meet tomorrow at 3? DECADENT Wicked Lovers, book 2 Excerpt Normally, Kimber Edgington didn't have problems asking for a favor. If her father happened to be in town, asking him to pick up dry cleaning didn't disturb her. Or bugging one of her brothers to stop for milk, no problem. Today, she wasn't asking her family for their help. And this favor she planned to request was anything but average. Deep breath. She could do this. No, she had to do this if she wanted to fulfill a seven-year fantasy. Easing out of her car and into the humid afternoon, Kimber studied the red brick house. From the outside, it looked well-groomed with a riot of colorful azaleas and a well-manicured lawn. Elegant with its partial stone façade, pristine white trim, sweeping balcony, and Doric columns. And without a single noise disturbing the green East Texas countryside, the place appeared sedate. No one would guess exactly what depravities went on here. In fact, Kimber had come to discover them for herself. And see if she could embrace them. Curling her shaking hand in a fist around the strap of her purse, she gathered her nerve and approached the heavy oak door. Sparing a passing thought for the beauty of the inlaid stained glass window of a seascape, she knocked. Perversely, she hoped Deke Trenton wouldn't answer. Ugh! She hadn't seen the man in...what? Five years? Maybe more. Kimber wished like hell she could go for another five--at least--without having contact with him. His crass, in-your-face

way of doing everything made her want to grind her teeth and take him down a peg or two--or ten. When she'd been seventeen, he'd roused a curiosity that scared her, yet she'd been unable to ignore. The one time she'd tried to act on it by starting a simple conversation, he'd rudely rebuffed her. For a long while, she'd hated him for it. Now, instead of avoiding him, she was going to have to ask him for the favor of a lifetime. And she'd do whatever it took to make him say yes. Tossing a stray auburn curl behind her shoulder, Kimber resisted the urge to check her lip gloss again. Her mascara wasn't smudged; she'd glanced just minutes ago. The olive cargo pants had been a stupid choice, but one that brought her comfort. She'd offset the look with a prissy, breast-hugging white eyelet top. The low, rounded neck ought to snag his attention. She'd polished off the look with strappy white heels she knew men loved, but damn it, they made the balls of her feet ache. There wasn't any reason to put this task off for another minute. With a hard swallow, Kimber knocked. "Coming..." A muffled male voice announced. Deke? It had been so long, and she'd blocked out as much of the grating man as she could. But she'd never quite forgotten his rough, gravelly voice. A battalion of butterflies jostled in her stomach as she heard the sound of padding footsteps approaching the door. She'd rehearsed this speech. Multiple times. Deke was cut from the same military cloth as her father and brothers. They didn't want stalling or sugarcoating. So she'd just throw it out there, hopefully without screwing it up. Abruptly, a man jerked the door open. He wasn't Deke. Not even close. Inky hair hanging loose around lean shoulders. Soulful dark eyes. A strong jaw dusted with a five o'clock shadow. A tight charcoal gray T-shirt and scrumptiously faded jeans hugged a tall, swimmer's sort of body. The man could model and make a fortune. He looked oddly familiar, so maybe he did. "Can I help you? I'd be glad to." His amused smile said he was aware she'd been checking him out and didn't mind in the least. He'd done some reciprocal scoping. Kimber laughed. Clearly, she hadn't been subtle or good with her directions. "I'm sorry. I think I'm at the wrong house. I'm looking for Deke Trenton. And I guess I've taken a wrong turn..." "Nope. You're at the right house. Cousin Deke will be back soon." "Deke is your cousin?" That possibility nearly made her jaw drop. In terms of looks, the two men were night and day--literally. The one before her was a sultry, sexy midnight, all dark and wanton looking. Deke was tawny hair and skin, all discipline and hustle and hard noon. He shrugged. "Second cousins. There are times I'd like not to claim him, but he does pay half the bills so he has a place to crash inbetween assignments. I'm--" "Luc Traverson. Ohmigod! I recognize you from your pictures. I have several of your cookbooks." "I'm flattered." She sent him a self-deprecating smile. "Oh, wow! I love them...even though I'm still a disaster in the kitchen." Luc's hearty male laugh resonated in a warm echo in her belly. She liked him right away. He was good people, down to earth, despite his success.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" "Kimber Edgington." She held out her hand. "You're really Deke's cousin?" "Whether I like it or not." Luc took it, caressing her hand more than shaking it. "I don't mean to keep you out on the porch. Do you want to come in and wait for him? I'd love your beautiful company while I finish tonight's roast." The man was full of southern charm. Kimber felt immediately at ease. "Thanks. Do you expect him soon?" "Yes. He called a little bit ago to say he was on the road." Luc stepped back and opened the door to admit her. Kimber wandered into the house, eyes wide open. Everywhere she looked classical and Italian influences reigned...but with an interesting mix of rustic cabin and modern technology. Distressed hardwood floors with warm-shaded plaster walls. Cognac leather chairs with wrought iron tables--and a fifty-inch plasma TV. Tasteful and plush...but still very masculine. "I suspect he'll be here in ten minutes or so." Luc sent her a sly grin. "Just enough time to bribe you with raspberry iced tea and fresh peach scones, so you'll tell me what on earth that asshole has done to earn a surprise visit from a beauty like you." Her smile fell. The mission. How quickly a pair of magnetic dark eyes and a few suave words nearly made her forget... A part of her could hardly believe her reason for coming here. It was wild. Crazy. Gutsy. Imperative to her future. And Luc wasn't worming the truth out of her, no matter how delicious his scones were. Deke would probably tell Luc the minute he laughed her out the door, anyway. "I'm just teasing. No need to be grim. You don't have to tell me a thing," he assured, his voice smoky and intimate. The teasing expression had been replaced by the comfort of his dark, solemn eyes. "Sorry." Kimber did her best to smile. "I'm a little..." "Nervous?" he prompted, leading her into a bright kitchen. "The house is gorgeous, especially the kitchen," she breathed, happy for a reason to change the subject. Rich cherry cabinets with furniture detailing, a European feel, and stainless hardware, backsplashes, and appliances. A gorgeous mix of the old and new. The six-burner gas stove, granite countertops, and double ovens made this a chef's dream. Luc looked perfectly at home here. "Thanks. Deke didn't help me decorate, in case you were wondering." He winked. Deke decorating? The very idea made her laugh. Deke would hang gun racks and litter the floor with shell casings. In his eyes, infrared binoculars would be the perfect coffee table conversation piece. TV trays, any old couch, and a bank of security cameras, period. He'd never need anything else for entertainment. "That, I'd believe. You did this?" "With a little help from a friend who's an interior decorator." "It's really lovely." He sent her a considering smile. "Glad you like it. Raspberry tea?" What the heck was that expression about? "Sure. Thanks." Luc placed his hand at the small of her back and guided her to a wrought iron chair with plush, mossy-shaded cushions. His touch warmed her. Kimber had no doubt that plenty of women found the well-known chef sexy. He was. But something about him also set her at ease.

He cooked and decorated and made her feel immediately comfortable. Maybe he was gay. Another glance at him, and she revised that thought. Doubtful. He was just naturally polite and easygoing. Totally unlike his cousin. Deke had always set her on edge, even before hello. "So you know Deke?" Luc asked, handing her a tall glass. "Oh, yeah." She gave him a tight smile. "He and my father are in the same line of work. In fact, he used to work for my dad." Kimber took a sip of the tea and moaned. "Wow. This is great!" Luc frowned, then recognition dawned. "Ah, you're Colonel Edgington's daughter?" She nodded. "Deke's mentioned me?" "Not by name. Mostly he's talked about your father. I'll have to kick his ass for that oversight. You're a doll." He sat in the chair beside hers and smiled, dripping charm. "If he was hoarding you all to himself, I'm going to be very unhappy with him." A heated feeling crept up her neck, to her cheeks. A blush? She never blushed. Ever! But Luc and his smooth tongue weren't something she'd ever encountered in her years of dealing with nothing but military men. "I'll bet you flatter a lot of ladies right out of their panties." A ghost of a smile hovered around his lush mouth. But he didn't answer. "Did Deke know you were coming today?" "He didn't. And he hasn't been hoarding me. Trust me, I haven't seen him in years. I think I was still in high school the last time we met." Surprise flashed across Luc's dark, sensual features. "So out of the blue, you decide to surprise a man who, unless I'm totally off base here, you aren't really fond of. Anything wrong?" Kimber paled. Damn, he'd figured that out quick. "I--I just need to talk to Deke. It's...urgent." # Deke hovered just outside the kitchen, jaw clenched. Damn, he'd know that sweet, little-girl voice anywhere. High-pitched, lilting, usually delivered with a hint of mischief. Kimber Edgington. She made his dick itch for action. Always had. Every day he'd worked for the Colonel, he'd seen her. Just the sound of her voice had been enough to send a mad rush of blood straight to his cock. One glance from those sweet hazel eyes made him as ready as a jackhammer. Adjusting himself, Deke grimaced. Damn it, she still had that power. At least she wasn't seventeen anymore, tempting a man who was old enough to know better and nearly too horny to care. Five years ago, he'd quit working for her father before he'd done something stupid. Something he was sure he'd regret every bit as much as she would. But why the fuck was she here now? Hell, only one way to find out... She gasped as he stepped into the kitchen. Deke leaned against the kitchen island to hide his raging hard on. By Luc's amused smile, he knew he wasn't fooling his cousin. But it was Kimber's face he focused on. More mature lines. Fuller lips. The freckles had faded. She wore a hint of makeup. The air of innocence remained, still begging corruption. Deke would bet every last medal he'd ever earned that she was still a virgin. Crazy. The girl had to be twenty-two, twenty-three. In his gut, though, Deke knew he was right. Shit! He had to get her the fuck out of here. Fast. Head-spinning desire and virginity were

a bad combination. "Kimber." His voice sounded like ground-up gravel. He resisted the urge to wince. "Deke." His name fell from her glossy, rosy lips. The husky sound only made him harder. Then she bit her cushy lower lip, and all he could think about was watching his dick slide over that lip, then deep inside the wet silk of her mouth while she looked up at him with those innocent eyes. If he didn't stop thinking like this, he was going to have to go into the bathroom and jack off before he could have a decent conversation with the girl so he could send her on her way. "Hi," she breathed into the awkward silence. "It's been a while." She nodded. It was jerky, nervous. He hadn't heard much of Luc's conversation with Kimber, just enough to know his cousin had some whacked-out imagining that he'd been keeping the beauty to himself. And that Kimber thought she had an urgent reason to be here. Since they only had one acquaintance in common, this had to be about the Colonel. "Is everything all right with your dad?" "He--he's fine. Thanks." She pasted on a smile. "He says some psycho ex-convict he helped bring in for a client is out now and threatening him, but that's nothing new." In their line of work? "No, it's not." Finally, his erection abated enough for him to cross the room and plant himself at the fussy Italian table. A smile still tugged at the corner of his cousin's mouth, and Deke sent him a warning glare. "I heard you tell Luc you had something urgent to talk to me about. It's not about the Colonel?" "No. It's..." Kimber's lashes swept toward her cheeks as she looked down, bit her lip again. Damn it, her unconscious, innocent flirtations were making him hard all over. Her gaze bounced back up, and he saw fortitude there. Interesting... "It's personal." Personal? Deke had no idea what to say. She'd come to him for something personal? He'd done his best to be an ass to her when he'd worked for her father. Not too difficult when he'd been knotted up by sexual frustration on a daily basis. A moment passed in silence. A pause. Luc rose and approached Kimber. "I'll give you kids a few minutes alone. I have to make a phone call, anyway. There's more raspberry tea in the fridge. Don't let Mr. Glower scare you off." He grabbed her hand and kissed it. "And don't leave without saying good-bye." Deke watched the exchange, and realized that he was grinding his teeth. Bastard. Kimber was everything his cousin pursued with single-minded vigor: the promise of sweetness, white lace, and innocent sighs. The fact she had a healthy hint of red in her hair was just a bonus. Not this woman. Not this time. If Kimber was off limits to him, Luc wasn't getting a piece of her ass, either. The muted slam of a door down the hall let Deke know his cousin was safely ensconced in his office. He turned his attention back to Kimber. "Go ahead. I'm listening." "I came to ask you for a favor. I realize this is odd but..." She drew in a shaky sigh, then raised her chin, seeming to take her nerves in hand. A moment later, she sent him a direct stare. "Would you teach me about sex, the way you like it?" Generally, Deke's expression conveyed none of his thoughts. His line of work made a poker

face essential. But Kimber had his jaw dropping on this one. He couldn't have been more stunned if she'd asked him to dig a hole the size of the Grand Canyon with his bare hands. "What?" "I want to learn about the way you like to have sex." The way he liked to have sex? Like it was some foreign fucking planet? Something here was wrong. Very wrong. Virginal Kimber couldn't possibly want what he wanted. It shouldn't even be in her vocabulary. Hell, maybe it wasn't. She probably didn't have the faintest idea what she was asking for. With that sobering thought, irritation doused his manners, and he shook his head. "Why the fuck would you want that?" Kimber didn't bat an eyelash at his language. Deke gave her credit for that--and having the guts to come here in the first place. Growing up with the Colonel and two older brothers, likely she'd heard every four-letter word known to man, and a few they'd probably made up on their own. He wondered where she'd come up with the fortitude to ask him to...what? Be her sexual tutor? He damn near snorted at the thought of all the things he'd like to show her. "I think it's time I expand my horizons," she explained in a breezy, practiced manner. "And for all your brash attitude, you're an honorable guy. You'd never hurt me--" "Which is exactly why I'm going to say no to you before you get any farther in that little speech." "I haven't finished." "You shouldn't have started." "I need your knowledge. I have to know how to please a man with your wants." His wants. As if it was easy. As if he could just draw her a picture. He held in a bitter laugh. "Let me get this straight: You want to learn how to fuck me, but you have no clue what that means, do you?" She bristled. "I do. You're into ménage." For more about Shayla Black's books, visit www.shaylablack.com