17

I dragged through the day as if my feet were encased in cement and I was spiraling down into the depths of an icy river, the undertow dragging me out to sea. When I'd moseyed in at 10:14 a.m., Stan was manning the counter, his scowl entrenched deeper than usual. Catching sight of me, he trotted out from behind the counter and squeezed out a tight smile.

"How are you feeling?"

Wow, he actually sounded concerned. What alternate universe had I stumbled into? "I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

He shoved his hands in his pants pockets, danced in place, and then jerked his hands free, the fingers shimmying in a wild rhythm. He cast his gaze down to the floor. "I, uh, need to apologize to you. My wife can be difficult, even jealous, and she didn't like me hiring a woman. I took my frustration with her out on you. I'm sorry."

"Thank you," I said slowly.

"If you need a place to stay, my brother can put you up in his motel — my treat." And then he spoke the words that shattered all my previously held beliefs about the world I lived in. "I appreciate everything you do here. I know I can be difficult, but you don't complain and I'm very grateful to have you working here."

With his bombshell detonated on my head, he sprinted for his office. The door clapped shut behind him. After about an hour of pure shock, I convinced myself I hadn't hallucinated the whole encounter with Stan.

As I observed the smattering of customers in the shop, the stomping of footfalls made me glance at the shop entrance. Travis moseyed inside, halting across the counter from me. He smoothed his hands over the wood surface, studying the grain as he addressed me.

"Hey, how are you?" he asked, as if we exchanged pleasantries every morning. As if he hadn't made a drunken pass at me mere hours ago.

I had to deal with Travis eventually. Might as well get it over with.

"How am I?" I rolled my shoulders back in an attempt to iron out the kinks and appear more assured. "My apartment imploded. And what was your sympathetic response? Oh yeah. You shoved your bourbon-soaked tongue down my throat."

He tugged at the collar of his uniform shirt. "Yeah, I know."

"What the hell were you thinking last night? Drunk on the job? A sheriff's supposed to be a role model, or at least a law-abiding citizen."

"You don't know much about cops."

His superior tone ticked me off, inflaming the fury I'd bottled deep inside — only a part of it related to him, but I didn't care. Pressure throbbed in my chest. How fantastic it would be to pop that cork and spew my anger and betrayal all over Travis. Maybe it would scorch some sense into him and make me feel better.

I couldn't risk it.

"I was off duty," he said, "not drinking on the job."

"What a relief."

Color rose in his cheeks, and he coughed into his fist. "I can never apologize enough, but shit. The things I've seen, they're unreal, and I ain't handled it well."

"What you've seen? Oh, you mean when you were spying on me outside my apartment." I felt hot all over, and not in a good way. In the steaming-pot-about-to-burst way. "The self-righteous cop turned into a stalker."

"It ain't like that. Somebody's gotta protect you."

"Protect me?" His claim derailed my train of thought for several seconds, as I tried in vain to understand any of this. "You hate me. Why on earth would you be concerned with watching out for me?"

He mumbled, scratching his forehead.

"Come off it, Travis. You know what Calder did to me." I wished I had my derringer, but the holster wouldn't fit under this top. Skeiron had trashed my wardrobe, leaving me only a tight-fitting T-shirt with short sleeves, a pair of low-slung jeans, and undergarments. I'd stowed my gun and its holster under the passenger seat of my car, along with two boxes of ammo. "I shot Calder in self-defense."

Travis's head bobbed in a weak nod, his gaze still downcast.

I hesitated, gathering the right words. "When you grabbed me last night and… did what you did, it was like I'd time-warped back to that night with Calder. It's like you became him."

Travis's head fell into his hands. "Jesus. Please forgive me, I didn't think."

And therein lay the problem. He hadn't thought, because he'd been drunk. For the longest minute of my life, I glared at him and he eyed me like he'd never seen me before. With a shapeshifting assassin and his crazy king after me, I had no energy to waste on despising Travis. He seemed genuinely horrified by his actions, so I made the best decision I could.

I exhaled out my anger. "Fine, I forgive you. Let's move on."

He looked so relieved I half expected him to collapse into a weeping lump on the concrete floor. Instead, eyes shiny with moisture, he gave me a lopsided, shaky smile. "Thank you, Lindsey. God, thank you so much."

He hustled out of the shop, rubbing at his eyes.

I had no clue why he cared so much that I forgave him. Another mystery to add to my growing pile of the unsolved.

At lunchtime, my parents showed up to force food on me, which I dutifully ate despite not being the least bit hungry. The afternoon wore on, heavy and suffocated by humidity. By three o-clock, I'd begun to daydream about a double bed in a nice, air-conditioned motel room.

All the while, memories of Nevan haunted me. Memories of our… whatever it had been. The thing I hadn't wanted anyway. Or so I'd told myself. How could I grieve for a relationship that had never been? What had we shared, really? One all-consuming kiss. Flirting galore.

I wandered down the aisles of the shop, distracting my brain and my heart by reciting the names of the rocks in the bins as I tapped them. I kept my voice quiet, a tick above silence. "Snow quartz. Fossil agate. Float copper. Red sandstone."

A presence tickled my sixth sense. My pulse quickened, butterflies flapped away in my stomach. It couldn't be. But my heart whispered please, please, please.

"Have ye forgotten the name of this particular stone?"

My breath hitched. I knew that voice, like I knew my own thoughts.

Nevan's hands glided up and down my arms. He bent his head to my shoulder. "Well, love, do ye know the name?"

His voice in my ear sent an exhilarating shiver down my spine. "It's called star moonstone."

"And what does it signify?"

"It's associated with — " I picked up one of the silvery gray moonstones, running my thumb over its polished surface. "It signifies love and passion."

He slid a palm down my arm, past my wrist, to close his hand around mine and trap the moonstone in my palm. "I tried to stay away from you, but it's like trying to stop gravity from holding my feet on the ground. I don't understand this. I've never wanted any woman the way I want you, Lindsey. Being without you is impossible."

I leaned back into him and the steel knot of fear and anger wedged inside my heart unraveled. "You keep saying you shouldn't be here."

"Still true, but alas, I do not always do as I should. Not anymore. Not with you." His lips covered my earlobe, his breath tantalized the hairs on my cheek. "I missed you. My sweet, mortal miracle."

That broke me. I spun around and threw my arms around his neck. "I missed you, Nevan."

Had he called me a miracle? Yes, he had. Huh.

Nevan's arms lashed me to him. I soared on a natural high induced by the soul-stirring, utterly impossible connection that bound me to him and him to me.

The moonstone slipped out of my hand, clattering to the floor. He murmured to me in that esoteric language and I dissolved into him, my lids shuttering on their own, my thoughts scattering into infinity. This was belonging.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked.

"Am I?"

"You are. I can see half your face. It's the kind of smile that implies you've got a lovely secret." His hand roamed up my spine to the base of my neck, his fingers plied my flesh with sensual delicacy. "Care to reveal your secret to me?"

"I'm glad you're here."

"As am I." He spread his palms over my shoulder blades. "We should talk about Skeiron."

"Can it wait until after my shift?"

"I suppose it can." An exasperated sigh rushed out of him. "You are intent upon keeping this ridiculous job, aren't you?"

"It may be a crappy job with crappy pay, but it's all I've got at the moment. Stan let me come in late this morning, but I don't feel like testing his newfound generosity."

"As you wish. I will visit with your family until you're free."

"Deal." For once, I didn't overthink my actions. I simply raised onto my tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

He smirked, of course.

Reluctantly, I let go of his hand. "See you at six."

"I'll be counting the minutes."

He flashed me a sizzling smile and sauntered out of the shop.

That's when I finally registered his appearance. He wore golden brown slacks and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows and the top two buttons undone, exposing his tanned flesh. Though he'd once again toned down the coloring of his skin and eyes, he nevertheless made a striking figure as he exited the building.

A twenty-something girl clad in a Hello Kitty T-shirt gaped at Nevan, blinking repeatedly at the sight of him.

Yeah, those muscles were not toned down for mortal consumption. The girl looked ready to pounce on him, and I could've done the same. He was devastatingly gorgeous, even with his supernatural traits muted.

When he walked out of sight, I tried to go back to work. Worries about Skeiron chilled me, so I warmed up by engaging in some choice fantasies about what might transpire later, when I met with Nevan in private.

Make love to me, Nevan. My body ached for it. For him.

Would the damn clock ever read six?

*****

I skipped up the steps into the motor home, into the wonderfully cool air inside. I found my parents, my brother, and Nevan all seated around the dining table, laughing at a joke I'd missed. I plopped my purse onto the nearest chair.

The four of them swiveled their heads to me almost in unison.

"Your cheeks are pink," Mom said.

"It's been a long, hot day," I said, "and I'm exhausted."

Nevan uncoiled his long body and moved to my side, gathering me under his arm. I rested my head on his chest.

My mother gave me a knowing smile.

I tried to smile in return, but it came out crimped.

Her lips crooked up on one side, carving out a dimple. She appraised Nevan from top to bottom and I didn't miss the appreciative, but subtle, lift of her eyebrows. If she thought I'd had sex with Nevan, she clearly had no problem with it. My entire family adored him.

Nevan's fingers traveled up and down the bare skin of my arm. "If ye don't mind me stealing your daughter for a bit, I'd like to take Lindsey for a stroll back to the falls."

Mom's irritating, knowing smile reemerged. "Oh, how romantic."

Dad wore a smugly pleased expression. "Lindsey needs a break after what she's been through. Make sure she takes it easy."

"I'll take good care of our girl," Nevan said.

My parents nodded their approval and waved goodbye as we exited the bus. Nevan kept his arm around me during our journey across the parking lot. We passed by the concrete statues in the rock garden, picking up speed as we entered the woods. A bird screeched overhead. My stomach flip-flopped, but then I glimpsed the creature — a hawk, not a raven.

Nevan squeezed my hand. "If Brennus is in the vicinity, he hasn't located us yet. And I've thrown out a little spell to confuse him."

"Like what you did to Travis and his men?"

"Similar, yes."

We lapsed into silence, strolling along like any couple out for a romantic walk. After a few minutes, when we'd bypassed the vortex and rounded the bend just before the falls, he halted us.

"I spoke with Skeiron," he said. "He confirmed he attacked you as a message for me, thought not for the reason I'd assumed. My interference in mortal affairs is trifle to him." Nevan hesitated, his gaze clouding. "He wants you."

"Why? I'm nobody."

"I've no idea why. Our conversation ended rather abruptly, when Skeiron ejected me from his fortress."

"Ejected? Do you mean physically?"

"Yes."

"Are you hurt?"

"No." He scratched his ear, glancing at the ground. "Wish I could tell you more. Skeiron wants you, that's all I learned."

He trailed a fingertip down my nose and onto my lips, his gaze fixated on my mouth. Desire sizzled on my lips, on my skin, and in the deepest, most secret part of me.

Seeming to rein in his own passions, he took a seat on the nearest stone bench and gestured toward the adjacent one.

I parked my butt on the hard rock, startled by the unexpected chill of it, and wondered if magic kept the summer heat from affecting the stone. The last time I'd sat here, an odd energy had healed the wounds Brennus inflicted on me in his raven form. Today, I suffered from the exhaustion of stress — caused by Skeiron, and to a lesser extent, Travis.

The mystical forces that lived in this place suffused me with cool, soothing currents. The first time, I'd nearly fallen down from dizziness. This time, the power of the magic flowed through me and around me, invisible yet palpable.

The healing energies wash over you like a cool breeze, infusing your body with ancient wisdom.

How many times I'd recited the spiel. Although the vortex didn't seem to be imparting any wisdom, it was washing energy into me, refreshing and gentle as a spring breeze. Though my muscles unwound, I couldn't stop worrying about what frequent exposure to mystical energies might do to me. Would I grow a second head? What if my skin turned scaly and purple? It was dumb, I knew, but the thoughts kept coming.

Nevan knelt beside me and cupped a hand over my knee. "Are you fretting about Skeiron?"

"Not right this minute."

"Why so despondent?"

"I'm not despondent." I had been after he left me this morning, and I cringed inwardly at the memory of my reaction. "Thing is, I never believed in the healing vortex. I made snide comments about it and assumed anybody who did believe was a fool. Now here I am, sitting inside the frigging vortex, feeling the exact effects I swore did not exist."

Mouth set in a hard line, he flicked his eyes back and forth, up and down, examining every inch of me.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"You said you're feeling the effects of the vortex. That only happens if you need healing."

"I'm wiped out, that's all."

"Are you certain?"

Striving for a calming expression, I captured his hands with mine. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm fine, I swear, no real damage. The vortex is kind of ironing out the kinks and I got a little weirded out by it is all."

He sagged a bit, shutting his eyes briefly. "Don't do that to me again, love. It… bothers me."

"Sorry." I stretched, groaning as my muscles loosened up. "Skeiron dumping a building on me was bad enough, but then Travis had to go and make a sloppy pass at me. Being kissed by a drunk was not on my to-do list."

Nevan shot straight and stiff as a telephone pole, his eyes ablaze with angry colors. He lifted his gaze above my head, shoulders back, and focused on a sight only he could see.

I recognized the signs. He was about to skedaddle, the elemental way.

"Hold up," I said.

Though he didn't vanish, he stayed in position, ready to go.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"I shall go wherever the sheriff is and have a chat with him." He snarled the words sheriff and chat.

"No you will not."

"He must be castigated."

I jumped up. "No. He was drunk and stupid, but I already yelled at him for it — and slugged him good. I can take care of myself."

Nevan rushed to me, lightning quick. His hands grasped my shoulders, hauling me into him, and his mouth dove perilously close to mine.

"I don't like aggressive men," I said, though my body roused with a surge of desire.

He closed his lips over the sensitive spot where my jaw met my neck. He ravished my skin with all the passion and abandon he'd lavished on my mouth during our one and only lip-lock, and I threw my head back on a long, low moan.

"You're mine," he said, his mouth quivering the flesh of my throat. "You told me so."

"Goes both ways."

"Mmm… yes. I am yours, my sweet."

I groaned as he dragged his mouth down my neck, his teeth nipping at my flesh, his scorching lips journeying ever downward until they found the side of one breast. He lapped at my skin with his skillful tongue, savoring me, winding me up until I succumbed to the sheer pleasure of it, wrapping my arms around his head to hold him to my breast.

He whipped his head up, strode backward, and said, "But the sheriff must be castigated."

Before I could speak, he was gone.

The flapping of wings pulled my attention skyward. A raven circled overhead, diving low over the clearing. My instincts warned me it was no ordinary raven.

Brennus plummeted toward me with terrifying velocity.

I clambered to my feet, intending to run, but the bird's wings whacked me sideways and bowled me over smack onto my ass.

The instant his feet touched down, the raven transformed into the black-skinned, blue-tinged, monstrous man I'd met yesterday. Brennus, his face cold and hard, twisted his lips into a grotesque version of a smile. His voice boomed like nothing of this earth.

"Mortal," he said, "you have defied him for the last time."

"Get away from her."

Nevan's voice roared from behind me, invested with a rage that raised the hairs on my nape. He stalked up beside me, where I lay sprawled on the ground. With one hand, he snagged both of mine and pulled me to my feet. Cracking his knuckles, he confronted Brennus.

The raven-man smiled again.

"Guardian," Brennus said, "you have disobeyed Skeiron once too often. He sends me to deliver a final warning. Give up the mortal woman, or be forced to watch as His Majesty extracts the essence from from your female and disassembles her piece by piece."

Disassemble? A gruesome image raced through my mind.

"You have until the sun sets in the mortal realm," Brennus continued. "Discard the female or Skeiron will eliminate the distraction for you."

Discard the female? I wasn't a piece of lint to be chucked in the trash.

"Deliver the woman to Skeiron," Brennus said, "or he will take her himself and his wrath shall lay waste to this realm."

I clenched my fists. "Lay waste to my world? The hell he will."

Nevan narrowed his eyes on me, rotating his head in my direction while his mouth sharpened into a scowl. Even I, a foolish and often dense mortal, comprehended his meaning — shut the hell up, woman.

Being foolish and often dense, however, I forged ahead anyway. "Tell your master not to bother with all the raping and pillaging, because I'm not the one he wants. He's confused me with somebody else."

The raven-man glanced at me like I was an ant crapping on his toes and told Nevan, "The king has realized she holds the power. Why else would you, guardian of the falls and seeker of the Janusite, protect this puny mortal female?"

"I will do what must be done."

A couple days ago, I might've worried Nevan had been sizing me up this whole time, to ferret out whether I did indeed have whatever power everybody wanted so damn badly. Though it made no sense, I trusted him now and I recognized he'd stated exactly what he meant. He would do what was necessary — but he'd omitted the "to protect my puny mortal female" part.

I pushed in front of Nevan, face to face with Brennus. "This puny mortal has a few questions."

"The deadline is sunset," Brennus said.

He shimmered and disappeared.

"Aw, come on." I spun toward face Nevan. "He can do the poofing thing too?"

Nevan shrugged.

"That's so unfair." I latched my arms around me, but my skin still crawled from our encounter with Brennus. "Am I misinterpreting this, or did a freaky raven-man just threaten to cut me up in itty-bitty pieces?"

"Skeiron would be the one to disassemble you, but only after he extracts your power."

"Oh great." I threw my hands up and let them flop back down. "Your boss wants to suck me dry and chop me up like hamburger. I feel much better. And what's the deal with Skeiron thinking I have some kind of power?"

He slipped his hand around mine, but his attention wandered, his eyes losing focus.

"Nevan?"

His gaze snapped back into focus, trained on me, and he released my hand. "I've no idea why Skeiron believes you possess great power. I've sensed something in you, suppressed and difficult to identify, yet nothing worth killing for."

"I don't have any goddamn supernatural energy inside me."

He canted his head. "Are ye certain of that?"

Was I? Despite longing to say yes, I couldn't. Not anymore. "You said a lot of humans have a touch of the Unseen in them. Maybe that's what I've got, but it's buried for some reason."

"If that were true, my enchantment would've worked."

"Maybe you're not as enthralling as you think."

He lips curved in a tender smile. "I believe we've demonstrated quite definitively that I enthrall you in other, non-magical ways."

My body chose that moment to thrust me into a whirlwind, sense-memory recap of our first kiss, segueing into a replay of his mouth on my throat earlier and they way he'd licked a path down my breast.

Nevan surrounded my hands with his and tugged me close, our hands pinned between my breasts and his torso. "You recall, don't ye?"

His voice was a seductive murmur. I struggled not to respond, but everything inside me betrayed my wishes.

"Your pupils are dilating," he said, "your breaths are quickening, and your body is yielding to me. Admit it. You are enchanted, in your own way, without magic."

"If that's the criteria, you're just as enchanted as I am."

"I'll concede the point." His voice was thick with a need rivaling my own.

My lips yearned for his. The faint caress a second ago had not been enough. I craved full contact. His lips. His tongue. His… everything.

Through the haze of desire, a thought surfaced. "What did you do to Travis?"

"Nothing. I hadn't reached him yet when I sensed you were in danger and returned."

He sensed I was in danger? I had no time to ponder the ramifications of that, because a shriek punctured the silence, ululating with blood-curdling effect.

Nevan jerked his head in the direction of the scream.

Another shriek resounded through the woods.

"That's coming from the direction of the shop," I said, overwhelmed by a mounting dread. "My parents. Ash."

Nevan hauled me into his arms and whisked us away.