Master of the Night (14 page)

But did she love him? Would she thank him for chaining her to him in a bond neither of them could ever break?

Not that he had a choice. Regardless of her feelings for him, being Truebonded was better than dying, and he had no intention of letting her die. If he had to live with her resentment, so be it.

“Erin.” He took her face in both hands. “Erin, wake up.” If he could get her conscious, he could use the remnants of the psychic link that had formed when she'd Changed to build the Truebond. But he couldn't form it alone. She had to open the way for him. “Erin, baby, you've got to wake up now. I don't want to lose you. Please, Erin. Please.”

She didn't move. He felt her heartbeat weakening.

“Erin!”

 

The Cell

Parker flinched from the sonic boom and the stench of brimstone as his master returned to Realspace. The bang of collapsing air couldn't be avoided, but he knew the brimstone was purely for effect, a silent warning he'd better not fail.

As if he needed one.

Bloody hell, how was he supposed to track one vampire and a depowered witch across Mageverse Earth? “Talk about needle in a haystack,” he grumbled.

He was about to turn around and start pacing in agitation when he sensed something he hadn't been able to feel in Geirolf's overwhelming presence: a lingering energy in the air, a delicious miasma of female agony that made his dick harden.

The girl.

His master was right. She'd fried her idiot self escaping. And it had hurt. A lot.

Eyes narrowing thoughtfully, he considered the afterimage of her pain. It wasn't a death, but he could use it. All he needed was a little something more of hers to complete the spell.

He moved to the window, looking for the spot where Geirolf had found the shard of glass with her blood. Sure enough, snaking, red trails marked two of the chunks. He put out a finger and touched each of them. Evidently the vampire had cut himself, too; one was from Champion, judging by the faint, psychic signature.

Perfect.

Carefully Parker broke off fragments of glass smeared with blood from each of the escaped captives, then carried the pieces to the center of the cell. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a piece of red chalk, then knelt and began drawing an inverted pentagram on the floor. The design wasn't really necessary to the spell, but he'd found making it helped focus his concentration.

After putting the shards in the center of the star, he sat back on his heels and concentrated on the swirls of residual magic floating in the room. As Geirolf had taught him all those months ago when he'd made his first sacrifice, he mentally captured one of the skeins of energy and drew it in. The taste of agony lingering in it made him shudder in pleasure.

One by one, he absorbed each of the skeins. His cock throbbed at the pain in them.

Not as good as killing her,
Parker thought,
but she's so close to death, it doesn't matter
. Then, when the power pulsed, he shot a stream of it at the bloody glass fragments on the floor. The blood steamed and hissed as it boiled instantly away.

Concentrating with his inner vision, Parker watched a ten-dril of white smoke rise from the glass and waft toward the shattered window. He rose to his feet and followed in long strides.

He knew he'd better hurry if he wanted to find the little bitch before she died.

 

The Forest

“Erin!” Reece's demanding shout rang out. All around him, the creatures of the Mageverse went still at the agony in his voice.

Only Erin herself failed to respond.

Too late. He was too late. She was too far gone. If only he'd thought of this when she'd still been conscious…. But he'd been too focused on escape.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? She was so damn pale, her lips bloodless, bruised shadows lying under her eyes. Worse yet, he could hear her heart laboring in that ugly way he knew from watching too many people die.

And he had no idea what to do for her.

Of course, a Maja could probably cure her with a finger-snap. The problem was, Avalon was thousands of miles away.

As if the situation wasn't dangerous enough as it was, daybreak was all too close. He'd used so much of his own magical reserves freeing them, he knew he'd be unable to fight his vampire compulsion to sleep.

Reece was terrified he'd wake to find her dead.

Something made a questioning sound out in the brush, and he looked up warily. Glowing yellow eyes looked at him before their owner vanished with a rustle.

A flicker of hope ignited in his chest.

That was it.

Mageverse Earth was full of magical beings who could help. A unicorn, a fairy, a kindly dragon—any of them would be able to save her. He just needed to find one of them. And he needed to do it fast. If he changed to wolf form, he'd be able to quarter the area at full speed.

Still, he didn't like leaving her alone. Geirolf and Parker were looking for them by now, and if they found her…

But if he did nothing, she was going to die anyway.

Hell.

He had no choice. Finding help was the only option he had.

Mentally cursing Geirolf, Reece took one last look at Erin's too-pale face, concentrated, and slid into wolf form. Wheeling, he took off at a lope.

And prayed Erin would still be alive when he got back.

 

The Grand Palace of the Cachamwri Sidhe

King Llyr Aleyn Galatyn stared at Janieda in narrow-eyed disbelief. “You knew someone was being held captive in Geirolf's cell, and you did not tell me?
Why?
”

She jumped as he rose from his throne. Even though she'd returned to her full height, the top of her head barely came to his heart. She twisted her hands together in agitation. “I told you, I had a vision. Given the chance, she'll be your destruction.”

“So you took it upon yourself to protect me,” he said in a low, silken voice. “How fortunate I am.”

“Llyr, I love you!” Janieda burst out. “I could not simply stand by—”

“But you did stand by,” Llyr snapped in the cold tone that meant his temper was seriously tried. “You kept me in ignorance. Had I known there was someone in Geirolf's cell, I could have taken action to thwart whatever scheme that creature has at work. Now it seems this Maja is dying, and I may have lost the opportunity.”

“But Llyr—”

“Silence!” he roared.

“I placed a tracking spell on them,” Janieda dared in a tiny voice. “I can find them for you.”

Llyr's anger eased. “Well. Perhaps it will be possible to salvage this after all.” He lifted his chin. “Show me where she is.

 

The Forest

Nose to the leaf-covered forest floor, Reece quested along, breathing deep of the scents that lay in snaking patterns on the ground. He caught a trace of direbeast here, there a hint of something acrid that was probably some kind of troll, but no dragon, no fairy, no unicorn. And certainly no Maja.

He lifted his furry head and looked around, frustrated. He had to find someone who could help. And fast, or Erin would be dead before they even made it back.

She deserved better. She'd fought so hard, given their escape literally everything she had. He had to save her.

Reece had known many amazing women over the centuries—Avalon was full of them—but Erin was something special even among that rarefied company.

He remembered the feel of her long body rising against his, silken and strong. Remembered the taste of her mouth as she'd kissed him back with starved intensity. Remembered the fire in her eyes as she'd committed herself to defeating Geirolf.

And he remembered her dogged determination to free them, even at the cost of her own life.

He began to run, all his senses open for the scent of fairy on the wind, for the phantom brush of magic against his mind.

As he flung himself through the night, he found himself remembering the last time he'd loved a woman.

He hadn't been able to save her, either.

Rebecca Champion had died in childbirth before Reece had become a vampire. He'd been just seventeen when they'd married. Rebecca had been sixteen, a rawboned farmer's daughter with a razor wit and a wicked laugh. He'd loved her with all the ferocity of the boy he'd been.

And all these centuries later, he could still remember the anguish of listening to her scream as she'd struggled to give birth to their only son, Caleb.

Unable to stand it any longer, Reece had rushed into the room and stood over her, helpless, despite the midwife's outraged demands that he leave.

He'd been unable to do anything for her but hold her hand as she died. He'd been all of nineteen, but the anguish of that moment had branded his mind so deeply he still felt its echo.

Unable to face bringing another woman to Rebecca's home, Reece had never married again, though it had meant raising Caleb alone.

His son had been nineteen, a man grown and gone, when Sebille had seduced and Changed Reece. Even then, however, he had never stopped loving his son, never stopped worrying about him. He'd used his new skills to start the shipping firm that would eventually become Champion International, largely because he'd wanted to make sure Caleb and his children and his children's children would always be cared for.

Thanks to CI, Rebecca's descendants had never known want. It was all he could do for her.

Yet now he realized that as much as he'd loved her, he loved Erin even more. It made no sense. He'd met the girl only two days before. How could her loss scar him worse than the death of the wife he'd loved for two years?

What was it about Erin that had sunk into his soul so deeply? Was it the link that had formed between them when she Changed? Or was it something about Erin herself—the intelligence and courage and humor he found so appealing?

Oh, hell, did it really matter why he felt this way? All that mattered was finding someone to heal her.

He was damned if he'd let Erin Grayson die.

 

Erin was floating.

She felt oddly like a balloon, tethered to her body by a fraying ribbon. Any second now, the knot would slip and she'd go bobbing slowly away.

The only reason she hadn't let go already was that she'd heard Reece calling for her, his voice shaking with need and helplessness. For a moment, she thought she'd felt the touch of his mind again. She'd tried to get back to him, but the effort seemed beyond her.

Now she floated in cool darkness and wondered how long it would take her to die.

It was too bad. She'd really wanted to kill Geirolf. For David, of course, but also for Reece, so grimly determined to save the world. And for herself, snatched away from a perfectly good life. All Geirolf's fault.

He really did deserve to die.

Though dying wasn't as bad as she'd expected, all things considered. It didn't hurt. She wasn't even scared, really; didn't have the energy for it.

Maybe she should just let go now and float….

“Come back.”

The deep male voice rang through the fog. Reece?

“You're needed.”

No, that wasn't Reece. It wasn't Geirolf, either. She'd never heard that voice before.
“Who's there?”

“Ahhhhh, there you are.”
Just like that, something snagged her, like a fist closing around a balloon's string. She felt a jerk.

And her eyes popped open.

There was an angel leaning over her.

Hmmm. Evidently she'd already died and just hadn't noticed. “'M 'n heaven?” she asked. That was good, if she'd gone to heaven. She hadn't been at all sure they'd take her.

The angel smiled, a flash of perfect white teeth. “No, I'm afraid you're still earthbound. More or less.”

She regarded him dubiously, taking in the exquisite lines of his face. It didn't seem possible that something that beautiful could be so thoroughly male. “Not an angel?”

“An angel? Me?” He threw back his head and boomed out a laugh. A curling lock of his long blond hair teased her nose. She found herself studying it woozily, fascinated by the iridescent gold highlights dancing along the fine strands.

“He is His Highness King Llyr Aleyn Galatyn, you igno-rant Maja wench,” a female voice spat impatiently. “Lord of the Cachamwri Sidhe.”

With an effort, Erin looked for the source of all that anger. Her blurring eyes slid in and out of focus before they locked on a tiny figure hovering just above her head. A woman, barely the height of her hand, with elegant butterfly wings that shed sparks of energy with each slow beat, and hair as pink as cotton candy.

Erin's failing brain suddenly produced a meaning for the tiny woman's sentence. She returned her attention to the angel. “So you're—?” But her vocal cords couldn't seem to manage the rest.

He smiled. “King of the fairies. Yes, I'm afraid so.”

Erin blinked up
at the fairy king. As she watched, his face seemed to recede. She felt so weak, everything seemed more like a dream than reality. And the idea of a fairy king was pretty dreamlike as it was.

She licked her dry lips. “Liked you better…as an angel.” Her eyes drifted closed.

“Are you that ready for your heaven?”

The snap in his voice made her lids flutter up. Anger, perversely, made him even more breathtaking as it sharpened his arrogant male beauty. Erin gazed up at him in wordless admiration. The universe seemed to revolve around her once, with his handsome face as the pivot.

“I said, are you that ready to die?” He gritted the words through his teeth.

“My Liege, you can't mean to save her!” The tiny fairy woman zipped back and forth over Erin's chest. The sparks from her wings turned bright red as she flew. “I told you what I saw in my vision. We'll all be better off if she dies!”

The king's gold brows lowered, but he didn't even glance at the hostile little fairy.
“Do you want to live?”

Did she? It would be so much easier to simply float away on this pleasant wave of numbness. No more hopeless battle with a demon, no more worry about possibly homicidal witches.

But Reece would be left alone. Erin remembered the expression on his face when he'd flung himself at the window—the angry desperation that had been more than the need to stop Geirolf. He'd wanted so badly to save her.

She could almost feel the warm strength of his big body moving against hers, the heated silk of his lips on her mouth. To touch him again, kiss him again—that was a reason to live.

She opened her dry mouth and forced out the words. “Help me…live.”

Triumph flashed over the Sidhe king's face. Strong arms closed around her, lifting her from the bracken as his face swooped down. Instinctively she tried to turn her head, but his mouth had already closed over hers. His lips felt hot against her chilled skin.

And then they got even hotter. Erin sucked in a breath, and it was like inhaling fire. Something rushed from his mouth into hers in a flaming wave, pulsing down her throat and into her lungs. She screamed weakly into his mouth, but he didn't stop kissing her as he forced the blazing energy deep.

It swelled inside her like a fireball, driving her failing heart into a frantic pounding, sending hot blood surging through her veins until it seemed every cell in her body lit up like a Christmas tree.

A burning Christmas tree.

She screamed again as her body convulsed in his arms, writhing against him.

Then, between one gasping breath and the next, the fire changed, metamorphosing from burning pain to blazing pleasure. Erin felt her nipples harden against his chest. And she felt Llyr hardening too, a thick, demanding ridge growing against her belly.

Somewhere inside her, something cried out in wordless protest. No matter how handsome he was, no matter how powerful he was, he wasn't Reece.

Instinctively she began to struggle, but she couldn't break Llyr's grip.

 

The scent of
Sidhe hung on the ground. Nose down, Reece followed it in wolf form as fast as he dared. He wanted to break into a lope, but he was afraid of overshooting the trail.

The only question was, would they save her? The Sidhe were an unpredictable lot at best, touchy and proud. And given that Lance had told him the Majae's Council had recently insulted King Llyr yet again, they might be even less inclined to help.

But he'd damn well talk them into it. Somehow. He wasn't going to let her die.

The scent trail intensified, riding the wind. They were close now. Reece wanted to bay like the wolf he'd become as he lifted his head and broke into a full run, following the shimmering, woodsy scent.

Even as he raced over the leaves, he realized his surroundings looked familiar. He was too desperate to care as he bounded over a tangle of brush and into the clearing where he'd left her lying helpless and unconscious.

A tall, blond man knelt in the leaves with Erin in his arms, kissing her with a hunger that brought Reece skidding to a stop in shock. The stranger, whoever he was, wore a blue doublet and hose, a velvet cape draped over one shoulder, a jeweled sword at his hip.

As he held Erin plastered against his body, power flowed around them so intensely even Reece could see it—sheets of energy, tinted with that glittering iridescence that was uniquely Sidhe. Reece throttled his first impulse to leap at the intruder and take revenge for that devouring kiss. He didn't dare interrupt.

The Sidhe was bringing her back to life.

As Reece watched, Erin began to struggle, trying to turn her face away from the Sidhe's kiss. A ripping growl tore from Reece's throat, but he couldn't interfere until he knew the spell was complete.

Then the magic faded and the Sidhe male lifted his head, masculine satisfaction in his smile. Erin glared hotly up at him, yet Reece could smell a trace of her arousal in the air. He told himself it was nothing more than her body's response to the stranger's life-saving magic.

“Let. Go.” The chill rage in her words had Reece tensing. Savior or not, he'd rip out the bastard's throat if he tried to take this further.

The blond lifted a brow. “Is this my thanks for saving your life?”

“Thank you. Let go.” Her tone had not warmed one iota.

Reece reinforced her demand with a rippling snarl, stalking forward on four stiff legs.

The man threw him a look and laughed, rising easily to his feet even as he pulled Erin to hers. “Peace! There, free and alive.”

She stepped quickly back from him and tugged the hem of her crop top into place. “Well, that certainly cleared up the question of whether you're an angel.”

“No man is an angel where a beautiful woman is concerned.” He was watching Reece stalk closer, silent warning in every line of his lupine body. “Isn't that right, vampire?”

Reece shifted to human form at Erin's slender back. “It certainly is in my case.” He gave the other man a smile every bit as threatening as the snarl he'd worn as a wolf. “Particularly when it comes to Erin.”

“See how little gratitude they show you, my Liege?” a tinkling voice demanded. Reece turned to see a tiny fairy glaring at him from inches away, her wings holding her at a hover. “I told you to let her die.”

“But it would have been such a waste.” The blond's expression was watchful despite his amused smile.

Abruptly Reece recognized their opportunistic savior. “You must be King Llyr Galatyn.” A man they did not need as an enemy, with daybreak barely a half hour away and a demon on their trail. Never mind that Reece would rather punch the Sidhe's teeth in for that kiss—this was the kind of king that could order them killed if they pissed him off. Hell, with his power, he could do it himself.

Falling back on the elaborate courtesy he'd learned at Arthur's court, Reece gave the man a sweeping bow and introduced himself and Erin. Laying a subtly possessive hand on her shoulder, he met the king's eyes. “I'm honored, Your Majesty. And very grateful for your swift action in saving Erin. I owe you a great debt.”

Llyr smiled coolly. “Yes. As a matter of fact, you do.”

Erin watched in admiration as Reece turned into a polished courtier before her eyes. Somehow he managed to acknowledge Llyr's power without seeming like a sycophant. At the same time he used gentle touches to her shoulder or arm to subtly communicate that the two of them were very much involved. The gestures were just as possessive as his blatant fang-baring had been earlier.

Had it been any other man but Reece, Erin would probably have been irritated. But it was Reece, and she found that there was something warming about watching him warn off a king on her behalf.

Besides, Llyr was up to something. She'd sensed that much when he'd touched her mind during the healing spell.

He was at his core a decent man, but he was completely dedicated to the survival of his people, and utterly ruthless in pursuit of their well-being. He'd saved her only because it served some purpose of his.

The real question was, of course, what that purpose was, and when he'd get around to revealing it to her.

“Our lovely friend tells me you've encountered a little trouble with Geirolf,” Llyr drawled at last, apparently judging that protocol had been served.

“When did I tell you that?” Erin asked, tugging a dried leaf out of her hair. She was all too aware of Reece's speculative gaze. She had the sinking feeling he knew she'd been turned on by the king's kiss, whether she'd welcomed it or not.

“I read it in your thoughts,” Llyr told her. His lids dipped over those opal irises. “Among other things.”

Evidently the link had gone both ways.

“You know about Geirolf?” Reece asked.

“I should,” the king said with a shrug of those elegant shoulders. “I helped your Fae capture him and drive his kind from Earth, even before Merlin sought out Arthur.” His mouth twisted. “My father gave his life in that cause.”

Erin frowned, puzzled. “So how are the Sidhe and Merlin related? Did he create you, or what?” When Reece winced, she realized she'd committed a blunder.

Llyr gave her a frosty glower. “Of course not. We evolved on Mageverse Earth, just as you did on your own. Our races are mirror images of each other, as our Earths are.”

She nodded. “So you're basically magical humans.”

“Or
you
are powerless Sidhe.”

Erin smiled slightly. “Touchè.” She shrugged. “Merlin's people are called the Fae, which is another name for Sidhe, so I assumed…”

His frosty expression warmed. “A natural assumption. Your people have confused two concepts that are unrelated. Not unusual, with mortals.”

Stung, she muttered, “Land on the moon lately?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. But that's a story for another time.” Llyr glanced toward the horizon. “The sun is very close. May I offer you the hospitality of my palace for the Daysleep?”

Reece's gaze flicked from the king's face to the brightening sky, then toward Erin. She got the strong impression he was wondering what she and Llyr would do while he was helplessly unconscious. He gave a coolly infuriating little bow of the head. “I would be grateful. I used a great deal of strength escaping from that cell, and I need to replenish it.”

“Then come, and I will open a gate for us.” The king made a gesture with one elegant hand. A shimmering dot appeared in the air to swell outward into a glowing window. Erin felt the magic of it dance over her skin, and something within her woke and responded.

“I've heard a great deal about Sidhe hospitality and the beauty of your palace,” Reece said as they prepared to step through it. “I look forward to enjoying both first-hand.”

As the king and Reece stepped through, Erin stepped to follow them—only to have the way blocked by a tiny glowing figure.

Janieda's eyes were hot and angry. “Whatever schemes you harbor, creature,” she hissed, “my Liege will see through them. And if he does not, I will!”

Okay, she'd had more than enough of this. “Listen up, Tinkerbell,” Erin growled. “The only scheme I'm harboring is a deep and burning desire to mount Geirolf's head on a pike. Unless you've got a problem with that, we've got no problem. So lose the attitude.”

“I saw you, whore,” Janieda hissed. “I saw what you'll do!”

Thoroughly fed up, Erin stepped through the gate, too irritated to hesitate even in the face of such unfamiliar magic. Even so, her knees buckled as alien forces washed over her.

A big hand wrapped around her arm, supporting her. She looked up into Reece's concerned eyes. She forced a smile and jerked her head at Janieda as the fairy flew through the gate. “You wouldn't happen to have a flyswatter on you?”

He grinned. “Not even a rolled-up newspaper.” His eyes tracked to Llyr and his voice dropped to a mutter. “Though I sympathize with the thought.”

“Where's a bug zapper when you really—” She broke off in amazement as their surroundings suddenly penetrated her consciousness. “Damn.”

They stood in a towering foyer built of shimmering white marble, polished to a mirror gleam. The twenty-foot ceiling overhead was supported by arches that appeared to be solid gold. The white marble floor underfoot was set with smaller jeweled tiles—sapphire, ruby, emerald. And everywhere, magic swirled and eddied in sparkling trails that made Erin's eyes ache. She shivered, feeling the power stir under her skin. “It's…beautiful.”

The king smiled at her awed tone, then nodded to Reece. “Come. I'll lead you to your quarters. You can tell me of Geirolf's schemes on the way.”

She watched as the two men started down the glittering foyer, comet trails of magic swirling in their wake. Her head began to throb as she followed. Somehow during her brush with death, she'd forgotten the way the energy of the Mageverse pressed against her mind.

She'd been able to manage those forces before when she had a clear-cut purpose—escaping the cell. But now Erin could feel them whipping around her like a nest of snakes she had to somehow capture and control.

It was a terrifying thought.

“What a weakling you are,” Janieda sneered.

Erin turned to glare at the little fairy just in time to see her grow in a blink to a full-sized woman, impossibly slim and delicate, her face a sweet, big-eyed triangle beneath a waving cluster of pink curls. To her irritation, Erin instantly felt like a cow.

The fairy lifted her delicate chin and sniffed. “Why my Liege should feel any interest at all in a creature who cannot even manage her own magic, I do not understand.”

Erin bared her teeth in an expression that was not even remotely a smile. “Oddly,” she said, “I find your lack of understanding does not surprise me.”

Janieda huffed, turned on one bare heel, and flounced off after Llyr, her short, diaphanous skirts twitching around her long legs.