Deceiver's Bond: Book Two of A Clairvoyant's Complicated Life (41 page)

I scowled at him. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“My carelessness has put you at risk. Even if you learn to hate my shadow, it will not happen again.”

I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment, trying to make sense of his threat. “Your shadow? You’re planning to use your magic on me?”

“Not
that
shadow.”

Huh?

I glared at him. “You know, words come out of your mouth and, half the time, I can’t make any freaking sense of them.”

“I believe the saying is, ‘no good deed goes unpunished.’ You saved my life and for that you have my enduring gratitude, but I will not allow you to become endangered again, even if I have to stick to you like a second shadow to ensure it.”

“You act as though I’m some hapless fool who needs to be protected before doing something stupid. I’m not a fool. Saving you wasn’t stupid. And I can damn well take care of myself.”

He cupped his right hand over mine, his expression soft. “Be at ease. You have readily demonstrated your abilities. You are no one’s fool. If anyone is a fool here, it’s me.” He removed his hand, perhaps noticing my startled reaction, and added, jaw tight, “Although why you would care what a wretched excuse for a sidhe thinks of you is beyond me.”

I blinked at him. “Wretched?” I snorted and almost laughed. “That’s the last word I’d use to describe you, Kieran.”

“Is that so? Perhaps you have another that would be more appropriate given the circumstances,” he said, voice bitter.

Let me see. Strong, sexy, honorable, intelligent, beguiling …

“Several, in fact. At the risk of great personal embarrassment, shall I list them for you?” I folded my arms and gave him a look that said I wasn’t partaking in any pity parties.

He shook his head, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Far be it from me to cause you undue hardship … although I must admit to being curious.”

“Another time, then. Preferably after half a dozen tequila slammers.” I smirked at him before blowing out my breath. “And, believe me, if there were ever a day when I’d want to go home and get stinking drunk, this would be it.”

He examined me archly. “With that to look forward to, I can’t imagine how you could fail to return us to Earth.”

I laughed, but when I looked out at the view, I couldn’t hold on to my amusement. Flames had beset everything around us. Kim and Jackie’s house was burning to the ground. I knew there were worse things. Much worse. But I couldn’t help feeling bad about it, and the fate of the man in the truck weighed heavily on my thoughts.

Kieran stood and held out his hand. “Come. We need to get back.”

“Are you crazy? We can’t go back. The house is on
fire
.”

“Then we’ll move out of the house first.”

“No. I told you. I don’t know how this place works. For all I know, we could take one step and end up on Mars.”

“We won’t end up on Mars.” He had a patient look on his face that said he was humoring me. “But if it makes you feel better, begin with a small step. I’ll not leave your side. If it doesn’t work, we’ll go back.”

Reluctantly, I gave him my hand and he smoothly pulled me to my feet.

He squeezed my hand before releasing it, the set of his expression tender yet determined.

“Okay, fine. Baby steps.” I nudged him with my shoulder and asked, “Put your hand … um, you know … I could use the skin contact.” I met his eyes before looking away, finding intense interest in the task of removing my gloves.

He dutifully slipped his right hand to the small of my back, but the thought of getting separated nagged at me. I almost wished I could put him in my purse along with Red.

I tugged his hand further around me and pressed his palm flat against the skin of my side. “Don’t let go of me, whatever happens.” I wove my left hand under his shirt, coasting it over the hard plane of his lower back until I clutched his left side, locking us arm-in-arm. His skin felt deliciously warm and smooth. My heart pounded, both from nervousness and the rush of Kieran’s proximity. I rasped, “Promise me.”

I’m sure the tremor in my voice didn’t inspire confidence, but he replied, “I won’t let go. I have faith in you, Lire.”

“At least one of us does,” I muttered as I unfurled my magic to encase our bodies.

I focused on Kieran, the pressure of his arm around me, the warmth of his hand cupped against my bare skin, the firmness of his muscles under my left palm. I reacquainted myself with his body, encompassing the whole of him, every cell, every breath, with my magic.

He shivered, and I realized he could sense what I was doing.

I smiled and almost laughed, my magic bubbling through me. “You missed this the first time.”

I did my best to ignore the fact that his body had responded to me in a very enticing way. Being so intimately aware of him was difficult enough, but now that he was conscious of (and,
oh my God
, obviously aroused by) my ministrations, I struggled to keep my libido tamped down to a manageable level.

Focus! This is no time to get careless.

I tried to approach it clinically. Kieran’s reaction was a typical male physiological response to our skin contact, proximity, and the sensation of my magic flowing over him. It didn’t mean
anything
. I had a job—return Kieran, Red, and myself to Earth, every molecule in its correct place, without any of us getting lost to oblivion or killed. Or losing any important parts.

Oy.

After a deep breath, I levitated us an inch, maybe two, toward what I hoped was the back of Kim and Jackie’s house, Kieran tight at my side. The panorama flexed and bowed, as though a monstrous convex lens rolled over the scenery with our movement. To my relief, we didn’t blip out of existence. We hovered, still inside the burning kitchen.

So far, so good.

I floated us another step. As far as I could tell, we seemed to move at an equal measure through the kitchen, in spite of the strange perspective. We didn’t teleport to Mars. We didn’t end up in the vacuum of space or half-a-mile under Puget Sound. Reassured, I propelled us through the kitchen and out of the house, unaffected and unhindered by the objects around us. The gray sky appeared curved and stretched, overhead. Green grass spread beneath our feet, warping and meeting the surrounding foliage somewhere in the middle of our view. When I turned, I saw the misshapen image of the house burning behind us. Movement near the far corner of the structure caught my eye—elongated yellow-clad figures bathed by the pulse of red lights. Firemen.

I stopped. We hovered over an open area, no trees or other objects to interfere with our return. Probably Kim and Jackie’s back lawn.

Holding our bodies, our essences, tightly within my magic’s grasp, I forced out, “Ready?”

Kieran’s hand tensed against my side but he answered calmly, “Yes.”

“Don’t forget to veil us.”

I recalled Earth in all her glory, its unique resonance—the way it smelled, tasted, sounded, felt—and latched on to that complex symphony, moving our molecules in time, slipping us back into its chorus, as though we were simply a missing harmony.

All at once, the world rushed up, pressing against my skin, my senses, bombarding me with the acrid smell of smoke, heat of the fire, deep rumble of diesel engines, and raised voices. I lowered us to the ground. Our shoes sank into the lush, cool grass, thirty feet from the furiously burning house.

Steps to our left, the dried remains of countless blackened, shriveled vines formed a menacing trail leading to the back door. I stared at them, noticing where they led, and realization dawned on me.

Mouth agape, I released Kieran from my embrace. “Holy cow. You fought them. There must be hundreds. You fought them all the way to the house.”

“For all the good it did,” he replied, looking stony.

I turned to confront him. “Shut up. You nearly died. You fought your way through all that to save us. Thank you.”

He shifted on his feet and his expression managed to harden further. “It was nothing.”

“Right. Nothing.” I motioned to the thick ridge of lifeless tendrils. “
That
is not ‘nothing.’ But I suppose we’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

I held out my hand, foregoing my gloves. “Come on, hero. Time to fly.”

He glared at me but finally took my hand. Squeezing it tight, I launched us into the sky.

Not even a quarter of the way into our flight across the sound, the first drops of the untimely storm hit the crown of my head. Kieran did his chivalrous best to shield me from the soaking rain, folding me into his arms and leaning over me, but the effort was futile. By the time we arrived at my car, parked in the Pioneer Square garage just blocks away from the ferry terminal, we were both saturated to the skin and our hair dripped in wet rivulets, slicked to the sides of our faces. Teeth chattering and racked by uncontrolled shivering, I practically fell into the front seat before closing the door and starting the engine, anxious to get heat coming out of the seat warmers.

“H-h-have t-t-to w-w-wait. C-c-can’t d-d-drive y-y-yet,” I stuttered. I considered using my pyrokinesis to warm myself, but even on a good day, drawing on such potentially explosive magic scared the crap out of me. As exhausted as I was, warming up the old fashioned way was the preferred choice.

Without a word, Kieran deftly snaked his hands under my arms and then yanked me up and over the armrests. A surprised squeak came from between my clacking teeth as I landed in his lap, perched sideways, my legs draped across the center console. I didn’t have the strength to protest. My stomach muscles ached from shivering. I was frozen and worn out. I dropped my head to his shoulder and allowed him to vigorously rub my arms and back while I chattered incessantly.

Did the sidhe have antifreeze in their veins or what?

“How is it y-y-you’re not even c-c-cold?” I complained.

“I am. It’s just easier for me to tolerate.”

“B-b-because y-y-you’re used to it?”

My head bobbed up and down along with his shrug. For some reason, he sounded amused. “Partly.”

“The Otherworld is c-c-cold even under g-ground?”

“I don’t find it to be, but I suppose you might. The surface is another matter. Depending on the time of year, it can be quite frigid.”

“And it d-d-doesn’t rain there like it d-does here?”

He chuckled. “No.”

Seattle, duh.

“N-n-not anywhere on your world?”

“No,” he replied, his hands continually moving over me, working to coax warmth back into my chilled skin. “Most of it is desert. Depending upon the time of year and location, it rains, but not often.”

I tried to ignore how good it felt to be sitting this way, so utterly protected. And his strong hands with such long, nimble-looking fingers felt …
mmm
. A pianist might be blessed to have such graceful hands.

“Kim p-p-painted it,” I said, remembering. “I saw the p-painting in her hallway. A landscape and s-s-sunset. Harsh but beautiful.”

“An apt description.”

And he might never see his home again—all because of me.

I squeezed his arm. “For defying Maeve, Kim said you c-c-could be outcast.”

He paused, perhaps weighing the question in his mind or wondering whether to answer it at all. He admitted, “It is … possible.”

“Won’t the King help you?”

Another pause. “Perhaps.”

“B-b-but you don’t know.” I realized I was clutching at him. I made myself relax. “She’s your cousin. Would she really d-d-do that?”

“Yes.”

“Just to punish you.”

He didn’t need to answer. His silence was a clear, unspoken ‘yes.’

“And then she’ll send another to c-c-claim me.”

His hands slowed. “Yes, but you needn’t worry. You are under my protection.”

“What?” I pushed away from him. “No. You c-c-can’t. If you interfere she’ll exile you for sure and then the K-k-king—”

He didn’t allow me to finish. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll not allow anyone to harm you.” His expression had turned flinty, although his hands—one at my lower back, the other on my forearm—remained gentle.

“Then I revoke your service.”

Surprise momentarily crossed his features before it was replaced with one of resignation. He shook his head. “It’s too late for that, Lire.”

“Bullshit.” I glared at him, worry driving away most of my chills. “I can take care of myself. I’ll not have you stuck here just because you don’t want a debt between us.”

His brows knit together. “Is that what you think? That the only reason I protect you is out of a sense of obligation? Simply another duty, is that it?”

His affronted tone took me aback. “I … uh, that is …” I frowned. “It’s not?”

“No.”

“But … then, why?”

“I might ask you the same thing,” he replied. “Why do you care whether I am exiled here or not?”

“Because you’re a good man, that’s why. You don’t deserve to be exiled just because Maeve is an unreasonable bitch.”

He tilted his head to the side, studying me. “And you don’t think I could feel the same way about you?”

I blinked at him, my mouth parted to speak, but nothing came out—neither a shiver nor chatter.