Fire's Ice (8 page)

“So they are.”

“Why don’t you get rid of them?” His body lay across hers in the sudsy water. “Through running?”

“Yeah.”

“Make love to me, Devin.”

* * * *

“Not here.” Standing, he pulled her to her feet and lifted her into his arms. Conjuring a warm gentle breeze, Devin let his power dry their skin as he carried her back to bed. He laid her gently on the comforter and drank in the sight of his woman. Dark tumbled curls, hell-smoke eyes, pale creamy skin. He’d never wanted anything more in his entire life. And that was saying something. Women, money, and more power. Every one of them left him empty inside. He’d taken all he could, but never before had he ached, been so hungry for anyone.

He lay down beside her and took her lips in a gentle kiss. He should give them both time to think about this, to plan. “I love you, Ari. Are you sure? I wanted to give you more time.”

“Oh, yes.” Even now, Ari wouldn’t give the words back to him.

She will. One day she’ll trust me with her heart.

“I’m sure.”

He trailed his lips from her mouth down the column of her throat where her pulse beat under his kiss.

“I’ve had my fill of waiting.”

Skin to skin, his blood beat hot and fierce. Need ruled him, but he forced it back. He’d been crazy to try. How could he turn away from her? “Look at me, Ari. Hold on to me.” When her eyes fixed on his, cleared, he pulled her closer, sank into her body carefully.

“Devin.” His name fell from her lips and the sound of it, the moment was one he wouldn’t trade for any other.
Mine. Always
. He caught her cry with his kiss and stilled inside her, giving her time to adjust.

“Only for a moment. I promise,
a ghra
.” He took her lips, kept the kiss slow and deep until the tension in her muscles eased.

“Don’t you dare stop now.” She rocked her hips against his, pulling him deeper.

“Not planning to.” He took her with care, moving slowly at first, then faster when she demanded. His power wanted to seek out hers, seal that final link that would bind them completely. She wasn’t ready. Not for that part of him, but he would give her pleasure while his soul ached. Locking it away, he focused on the sensation of her fingers on his skin, the softness of her lips against his, the way her body fit his perfectly.

“I love you, Arianne.”

* * * *

She was covered in liquid gold, every inch of her skin burning with the thrill of his hands on her. Her first, her only. For the first time in her life, she felt loved– cherished. Wanting to give the words back to him, she captured his face in her hands, placed her lips lightly over his. Fear stilled her. Every person she had offered those words to had grown to hate her. She couldn’t bear to see the same in his eyes after she had known his love. And so she kept them to herself to spare them both. “Devin,
a amhain
.”
I love you. I love you
. Her nails scored his back as he took her higher toward madness. “With me.” Pleasure tore through her like lightning. Arching her hips, she met him thrust for thrust. Ache for ache. Clinging to Devin, she took him with her.

The sensation of Devin’s weight pinning her to the mattress was exquisite. Her breath came in short gasps and she shivered.

“Cold?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be cold again.”

Devin smiled. “If that was a sin, I’d gladly spend eternity in Hell for another taste. You have the best ideas.”

“True.” She laughed and then gave an
oomph
sound as something heavy pounced onto his back on top of the covers. At one point, they had managed to slip under the comforter. “What in the world?”

“Tess.” He growled the name in her ear. “My cat. She wants her breakfast and is prone to getting her way. And the pillow you’re resting on.”

“Breakfast sounds good.” The fat black furball peered over his shoulder at her. “Aww. Sweet kitty, time to let our laird out of bed.”

The cat jumped down to the floor and pranced out into the hall, swishing her tail.

Ari laughed.

“Figures she’d listen to you. What’s so funny?”

“You. All powerful phoenix ruled by a little kitty cat. You are adorable.” She kissed him.

“Adorable? I think I can do better than that.”

“Can you, now?” But he was already moving inside her, quick as lightning. “Lock the door.”

Gasping, she heard the lock
snick
, and smiled as he took her under again.

Chapter 10

Devin had shown Ari around the castle after eating breakfast with her in the kitchen. Quiet, simple, conversation to temper the heat. As much as both of them would have liked to stay in each other’s arms for the next few centuries, Raine was top priority. So he’d left Ari in the library pouring over his spell books while he continued his ritual of training every morning.

Taking a clay ball from his pocket, Devin whispered over the object until it sprung away and stretched into the shape of a man. The clay clone would have every power he possessed and remain the perfect training partner until destroyed. No one would ever have the upper hand on him again, not in battle or magic. Only one man had managed to best him.
McKenna.
With age, his anger at Daemon had cooled, but it was easy to remember that final battle between them.

Pleasure–intense, hot, always fascinating–sliced through him. Manifesting his magic into a diamond white fireball in his cupped hands, he allowed the power to drug him for just a moment before going on the attack. Devin studied his cousin and teacher, Daemon, standing across from him on the other side of the training ground. Here his father Laird Duncan McLoch sought his warriors training. Devin dutifully joined them in daylight with his blade. Dusk had fallen, the men of the clan gone to tend other matters. Devin lit the torches surrounding the area to continue his instruction in magic secretly away from those who would cast shame on him – namely his father.

I am a witch. A damn good one.

And he intended to be the best. He’d been born with magic. It wasn’t something he craved, but he had it just the same. Why not use it to his advantage? To him, magical ability was no different from the power his position within the clan afforded him. His Laird forbade him to use the devil’s gift. For all his wisdom and strength, Laird McLoch was a fool. Everything is a weapon.

“Do your worst, old man! I am ready.” Devin watched, intensely focused as the faerie materialized his favored weapon, a slim sword with a jewel-encrusted hilt. Running a finger down the blade, Daemon imbued it with his power, turning the blade bright blue. After a few testing strokes, Daemon took a fighting stance and waited for Devin to do the same.

Expecting as much, Devin’s mouth curved into a smirk as he tossed the ball of fire high into the sky, where it shattered into dozens of white twinkly sparks. Daemon lacked cunning and it would prove to fail him now.

Rain whipped in wet drizzling ropes around him–Daemon’s way of trying to render his power useless.

Damn weather witch.

“Is that the best you can do? Flaming glitter? Child’s play. Come now, Devin. I expect more from you. Give me a challenge.”

The wind pitched to a roaring howl and tried to force him to his knees.

“As you wish.” Devin withdrew his heavy broadsword from its sheath smoothly, held it at the ready. Raising the sword high over his head, he pointed the blade upward. The glittering sparks turned dark red and swirled, gathering until they formed a red dragon made from flames. The monster of his creation wrapped its flaming self around Devin’s sword, threw back its head, and blew fire at Daemon. Surrounded by power, he charged Daemon, who immediately raised a barrier of crystalline blue water to protect himself. But he was clearly outmatched. Devin’s fire dragon wrapped around Daemon and squeezed.

“Enough already! Call off the dragon.” He struggled against its hold. Behind the power, Devin felt the licks of flame breaking through Daemon’s shield, marring the skin. Relenting, he smirked and sheathed his sword. “You give up too easily. Say it, cousin!”

“Fine. On this field of battle I yield to thy magic, oh mighty wizard. Now call off this bloody devil before it melts my skin to the bones.”

Devin held his hand up and the fire dragon withdrew into the sparkling fire ball from which it was created, then vanished out of sight. “My favorite words in the world.”

“Might I remind you had I used a smidge of my real power, you’d be flat on the ground at this moment begging for a reprieve?”

“
So you say, old man. Though I’ve yet to see this mighty power you speak of.”

“Old yes, in mortal years, which I am not. Half nixie. Remember? And I was doing just fine until you conjured that beast.”

“A thousand years is old, regardless.” Devin held out his hand and pulled Daemon to his feet.

“One should hope you never find out what the age feels like. My point is, your skill is commendable but until you learn to lose, there is no true measure of your power. Humility is a
lesson you have yet to learn and one I’m apparently unable to teach you.”

“I am the son of a laird. Pride is a demanded trait.”

“And pride is a foolish weapon when you are lying in the dirt. You need an equal to spar against. Someone your own age skilled in battle and magic. On the morrow, we will be adding a companion to our training sessions.” He pointed toward a figure in black leaning against base of a large tree, and waved him over. “Kail!”

Devin watched the other man stalk off the bank and walk across the training ground. He was tall, almost six-eight if he guessed right, with long black hair swinging straight and loose to his shoulders. He wore no color, no plaid to identify his clan, choosing instead a sleeveless black tunic and breeches. Kail’s clothes would have made him blend in with the night if not for the torches lit around the training ground. On the ball of his left arm he bore an intricate woven circle. Seven runes lined the mark and surrounded a dagaz–the rune of balance–which sat on top of a numeral seven. His eyes were sky blue, powerfully startling in contrast.

“Devin McLoch, meet Guardian Kail McKenna–a friend of mine.”

Normally friendly, Devin nodded and smiled, expecting to clasp hands with the other man. When Kail didn’t reciprocate, he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. Something about the man’s power didn’t feel right. Dark. Pure darkness.

“I’d like to say it’s good to meet you, but I can see otherwise. McKenna. Do you shun your clan? Deny your family?” He stood eye to eye with the newcomer.

“I have no clan. My sole mission is to protect the seven warrior women from harm while they accomplish their goal. To do so, I must train you, it seems.”

“Seven, hmm? Fate smiles on you.”

“Lecherous cur. Make no mistake, you will find no allies here, McLoch. Draw your sword and prove your worth, or die like a coward.” McKenna materialized his sword.

“Nice trick, but a very simple one.”

“You have no idea what realms of magic I master. Last chance. Draw your sword, McLoch.”

“Is this really necessary?” Daemon tried to intervene between the two men, sending a rain shower to drown the ribbons of black rippling across the air, clashing against Devin’s red licks of flame.

“You are too soft on our little laird, Daemon. If he is to be of any use to the elders, he must prove his worth. I will not have another weak guardian endanger Cailin. Your word isn’t good enough. He will fight for every breath I will allow him to take, or he will die. His choice. A true warrior never gives in, never gives up. Now
draw
.”

Devin drew his sword and prepared to fight for his life. “You are crazy!”

The bastard had the gall to laugh in his face. “That point is debatable, depending on your perspective.”

Sounds of clashing steel filled the night as Devin blocked McKenna’s downward swing. A second more, another couple of inches and it would have been his head. Battling with everything he could muster, magic flitted around the training ground like fireworks. Thrust. Dodge. Parry. Endless. Just as he was about to gain the upper hand, McKenna disappeared before his eyes.

“What the hell? Coward! Come back here!”

“Right here, McLoch.” McKenna stood behind him, his blade in a rather precarious place. “Yield or you’ll be Danielle come morning. As you said. Everything is a weapon. Magic alone won’t win the battles to come, nor will skill with a sword. Use any and all weapons that come to hand. Yield.”