Shadowspell (24 page)

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Authors: Jenna Black

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Girls & Women

BOOK: Shadowspell
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I grabbed the doorknob, but before I had a chance to turn it, Ethan quickly crossed the distance between us and grabbed me. Once again, he shoved me up against the wall, only this time he stayed right there in my personal space, one hand planted on the wall on each side of my head. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something—from the look on his face, it wasn’t going to be anything I wanted to hear—but no words came out.

My heart was still aching from his less-than-welcoming reception, but even so, I couldn’t help noticing the faint, woodsy scent that clung to him. Nor could I help noticing the warmth of his body so close to mine, or the intense teal blue of his eyes. He leaned closer to me, and at first I thought he was about to kiss me, and my pulse started hammering for reasons other than anger.

But instead of kissing me, he merely touched his forehead to mine and closed his eyes. I didn’t quite know what to make of the gesture. I told myself I was relieved that I’d been wrong about his intentions, but my body wasn’t buying it. My skin felt tight and tingly, and my pulse kept rocketing. Without conscious thought, my hands somehow made their way up to Ethan’s waist, the touch tentative in case I was misinterpreting his signals.

He moved even closer to me, making it easier for my arms to slide all the way around him. He raised his head, and our gazes locked. There was a whole lot of desire in his expression, but there was something else, too. Something I didn’t understand, but that I instinctively didn’t like.

I was going to ask him what was wrong, but before I had a chance, he was bending his head toward mine again, his slightly parted lips telegraphing his intentions and leaving no doubts in my mind. No doubts, and no thoughts, period. I forgot why I’d come here in the first place, forgot all my mixed feelings about him, forgot how harshly he’d spoken to me.

When his lips touched mine, I couldn’t help the little gasp that escaped me. His lips were so soft and warm, his touch delicate without being tentative. It was the lightest of kisses, a bare brushing of lips, and yet it tingled through every nerve in my body.

“More,” I whispered against his mouth, and he obliged me by deepening the kiss. My arms tightened around him, fingers kneading his back as I opened my mouth and invited him in.

The little moan that escaped him when he took his first taste sent a thrill through me from head to toe. His hands were no longer on the wall. One cupped the side of my face, holding my head at just the right angle to receive his kiss. The other rested on my waist, right above the waistband of my jeans. As his tongue began exploring the inside of my mouth, the hand on my waist began stroking up and down my side. His thumb brushed against the side of my breast with each stroke, and it didn’t even occur to me to mind.

Feeling uncommonly bold, I skimmed my hands down his back until I found the edge of his T-shirt, then slipped them underneath until I found bare skin. His body was deliciously warm, his skin soft as silk. His breath hitched at the touch, but it was nothing that even vaguely resembled a protest.

I guess Ethan was feeling pretty bold, too, because his hand moved from my side to my front. He was still stroking up and down, moving slowly, making sure I had plenty of time to realize where that hand was headed and put a stop to things. But I didn’t.

My back arched almost against my will when his hand cupped my breast. The touch was muffled by the sweater, shirt, and bra, but that didn’t stop my nipples from tightening into hard little buds, nor did it stop the heat that gathered in my center.

Ethan’s movements were less controlled now. His lips pressed against mine almost too hard, and he was no longer satisfied to feel me with so many layers between us. His hands bunched in the sweater and the shirt, shoving both up practically to my chin and exposing my bra.

He moved a little too fast for me, fast enough to let my mind clear for half a second while I tried to decide whether this was going too far. That half a second was all I needed to bring my common sense back on line.

Something was wrong with Ethan, I remembered suddenly. Kimber had noticed it, and I’d seen it, too, when he’d first yanked me in the door. Now was not the time for us to be exploring our mutual attraction, no matter what our bodies wanted. Ethan had tried to take advantage of me once before, and I worried that in his current state, he might not do too well at controlling himself if I let things get out of hand.

His hands had slipped around to my back as he tried to unhook my bra, but though a part of me was more than willing to take another step into the wild side, the wiser part of me stayed in control. I couldn’t talk with his tongue in my mouth, so I settled for putting my hands on his chest and giving him a push.

Ethan made a sound deep in his throat, half growl, half groan, and though he stopped fumbling with my bra clasp, he didn’t take his hands away, nor did he stop kissing me. There was no denying the arousal that lingered in my blood, but now that I’d started thinking again, I couldn’t shut that part of my brain back down.

I had a lot of reasons not to fully trust Ethan, but even so I didn’t believe he’d force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. My fear was that his powers of persuasion and my own desires would once again sweep my common sense away and I would forget why I had to stop. And I
did
have to stop. After all, my agreement with the Erlking meant I couldn’t go all the way without losing Ethan forever.

It was only at that moment that I really understood just how insidious the agreement was. If somehow all the problems between us melted away and I wanted to sleep with Ethan, I’d have to go to Arawn’s bed first. Call me crazy, but I didn’t think Ethan—or any other boy, for that matter—was going to like that idea. I was so screwed. In a manner of speaking.

I pushed harder on Ethan’s chest, the mood now completely spoiled by my train of thought. The gesture would probably have been more convincing if I could have stopped myself kissing back, but it felt so damn good …
This,
I decided, was my first real kiss, a kiss untainted by magic.

I made a murmur of protest as I kept trying to push Ethan away. If he’d persisted even a moment longer, I was sure I’d find the willpower to turn my head, but he finally decided my “stop” signal took precedence over my “go” signal. He tore his mouth from mine, and I had a moment to register the look of frustrated anger on his face as he took a step backward and turned away from me.

I was being a total tease, even though I didn’t mean to be. I opened my mouth to say something to smooth things over, but no words came to me. I didn’t think explaining the sacrifice I’d had to make to win Ethan’s freedom would improve the situation.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said, feeling wretched as I pulled my shirt and sweater back down.

Ethan turned back to me abruptly, his eyes wide with surprise. “What on earth for?”

I blinked stupidly. He looked like he meant it, but I hadn’t imagined the anger I’d seen on his face before he’d turned away. “I didn’t mean to lead you on,” I said in a tiny voice that hardly sounded like my own. It wasn’t like me to be this tentative, but nothing in my life up till now had prepared me for dealing with Ethan.

He reached out and put both hands on my shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Again, he radiated sincerity.

“Then why were you so angry?”

He let go of my shoulders and leaned against the wall opposite me. “I wasn’t angry at
you,
” he assured me. “Look, I know you’re not … experienced. I know better than to go so fast.”

My cheeks flamed, and I found myself unable to meet his eyes. I kept letting myself forget how out of my league Ethan was. He was used to mature, experienced women, and right now I felt like a little girl, way more than two years younger than him.

Ethan wasn’t looking at me at that moment, so he didn’t see the shame that flooded me, and he kept on talking. “I shouldn’t even have kissed you, not in the state I’m in right now.”

The idea that he thought kissing me was a mistake sliced painfully through my chest, but I forced myself to focus on the more important part of what he’d said. “What state are you in right now?” This was, after all, the reason I’d come to see him despite the virtual
DO NOT DISTURB
sign he’d put out.

“I’m just … not myself,” he said evasively, his eyes not quite meeting mine.

“What do you mean?”

He stood up straight, pushing away from the wall. “Hey, would you like something to drink? There’s no reason for us to stand around in the hallway like this. Come in and sit down.”

“Subtle,” I said, but when I saw the look of near panic in his eyes, I backed off. “I’ll take a Coke if you have it.”

“Yeah. Sure. Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

He ducked into the kitchen before I could answer. I was tempted to follow him, but I sensed it would be wiser to give him a little space. He might have just slammed the conversational door in my face, but the fact that he wanted me to stick around gave me hope. Maybe he wasn’t yet ready to tell me what was wrong, but it wasn’t impossible he’d nerve himself up to it before the night was through.

Smoothing my sweater down to make sure my clothing was all back to rights, I slipped into the living room and plopped down on the very masculine leather sofa.

chapter twenty-two

Ethan took far longer to get the drinks than I was expecting, and I considered going into the kitchen after him. I decided against it because I figured I needed the time to pull myself together as much as he did.

Apparently, it didn’t matter what my logical, practical side told me about Ethan and all my reasons for doubting him. When he was near me, when he touched me, logic was useless. I’d pulled back tonight, but it was embarrassing to think how hard it had been. And if I ever ended up going on a real date with him, who knew what I’d end up doing. The guy turned my brain to mush, and that was ridiculously dangerous, for both of us. Of course, Ethan didn’t know it was dangerous for him—I doubted the Erlking had let him in on our bargain.

Ethan looked a little better when he finally returned to the living room, bringing me a Coke in one of those old-fashioned glass bottles and a bottle of something called Old Peculier for himself. It was some kind of dark beer, and I suspected it wasn’t anything cheap. His bottle was almost half empty already, which I didn’t think was a good sign. He handed me the Coke, then sat beside me on the sofa and took a long pull on his beer. The silence between us felt awkward.

I tried to think of a subtle way to ask Ethan again what was wrong, but subtlety wasn’t my strong suit. Ethan was rolling his bottle between his hands, staring at it sightlessly. Kimber was obviously right, and something was wrong. Maybe he and I weren’t close enough for me to have the right to pry, but that didn’t stop me.

“What did the Erlking do to you?” I asked softly.

Ethan blinked and snapped out of his brooding. He raised the bottle to his lips again, chugging the remains. I’m not a connoisseur of beer by any stretch of the imagination, but I suspected Old Peculier was meant to be sipped rather than chugged.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ethan said, setting the empty bottle on the coffee table in front of him, and then staring at it some more.

“I kinda got that hint,” I replied. “But if you don’t talk about it, how are you ever going to get over it? Whatever ‘it’ is?” Even at the time, I knew I should apply those words to my own situation, but I still wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about my devil’s bargain.

He shook his head. “It’s just one of those things I’m going to have to deal with on my own.”

“This is one of those guy things, right? You figure if you don’t talk about your problems, they’ll go away?”

He finally looked at me, and the expression on his face was forbidding. “When I said I don’t want to talk about it, I meant it.”

Maybe I should have backed down. If our positions were reversed and he were grilling me about how I’d gotten the Erlking to let him go, I’d have been getting pretty pissed off about his questions. But some instinct inside me urged me to keep pushing, insisting that Ethan secretly
did
want to talk.

“You know, I practically sold my soul to the devil to get you back,” I told him, and saw from his flinch that I was hitting a nerve. “Arawn kept telling me you were ‘unharmed,’ and I think I have a right to know if he was lying to me or not, because if he’s lying about that, he could be lying about other things, too.”

My whole argument was a pretty big stretch, but from the way Ethan’s fists clenched in his lap, I guessed I was getting through to him in a tough love kind of way. He brooded another minute or two, then unclenched his fists and shook out his hands. Then he reached up and touched the tattoo that framed his eye.

“I’ve been released from the Wild Hunt,” he said, still fingering the tattoo, “but it’s not the same thing as being free.” He dropped his hand and finally turned to look at me, his expression haunted. “I’m still tied to him, Dana. I don’t have to ride with the Hunt, but I’m his creature now and always will be.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, though I had a sneaking suspicion I actually did.

“When he bound me to the Hunt, when he put his mark on me…” Ethan touched the tattoo again. “I can’t ever disobey him. His magic won’t let me.”

With a cry of mingled despair and frustration, Ethan collapsed into his seat, letting his head come to rest on the back of the sofa. The pain in his eyes was so intense I had to look away.

“I’ve been a goddamn puppet all my life,” he said, his voice laced with a bitterness I’d never heard from him before. “I’ve always been the good son, done what my father wanted me to do. He asked me to try to win you over, even if I had to be a lying bastard to do it, and it never even occurred to me to say no.

“Then, when I actually got to know you…” He shook his head without lifting it from the back of the couch. “You’re your own person, Dana. I know your father wants to control you just like mine wants to control me, but you won’t let it happen. You make your own decisions, and you don’t let anyone push you around. I thought maybe … Maybe I could try to be like that, too. Maybe if my father asked me to do something I thought was wrong, I’d say no next time.

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