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Authors: Diana Duncan

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BOOK: Sword of the Raven
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Zack chuckled. “Ah…no, no, and seriously
grody.”

“Van can’t handle any more whack-a-dos.”

“Detective Kim is sickeningly well-adjusted.” Zack subtly eased her closer. “So, how about it? You choose the time and place.”

“I…let me think about it, okay?”

“No rush.” The song segued into another romantic ballad, and he eased her closer yet, swaying with the music. “I’m here when you’re ready.”

She surrendered to the comforting moment, and shifted aside his leather jacket opposite his gun holster to rest her cheek against his shirt. She closed her eyes. Once upon a time, they’d been good together. She’d thought him the man of her dreams.

How different would her life be if he’d never broken up with her? If he’d told her about the threat to Connor and herself, and they’d fought it together? She wouldn’t have been on the beach three weeks ago.

Would never have met Rowan.

Did she regret losing her dreamt-about life?

Zack’s hand drifted up her spine, and his chest vibrated in a contented hum. But she
hadn’t
lost that future. Zack had asked for a second chance. Given back her engagement ring.

Did she want it?

Her skin tingled all over…prickling with hot energy. Her eyes flew open.

And met Rowan’s blazing quicksilver gaze.

He stood on the dance floor right behind Zack, dressed in his all-black ensemble complete with long duster. Which meant he was packing.

His hand rode his hipbone as if he were considering drawing his gun. How long had he been standing there, watching?

She tripped over Zack’s feet.

“How
many mojitos tonight?” Zack teased.

She stood frozen, trying to decipher Rowan’s enigmatic expression. Was that pain swirling in his eyes, hurt darkening his features? Or anger?

Zack stiffened. Turned. Stared at Rowan, who stared daggers back.

Zack’s attention arrowed to Delaney, and he could hardly fail to miss the crackling tension between her and the silent Mage. His fingers inched toward his concealed shoulder holster. “Do we have a problem here?”

“No!
Um…” Her speech clumsier than her feet, she swallowed hard. “Rowan, this is Zachary Walker, my…uh…”

“Fiancé,” Zack supplied.

“Ex-fiancé,” Delaney corrected. “Zack, this is Rowan MacLachlan. He’s…” She swallowed again.

My lover.

“Delaney’s bodyguard.” Rowan stepped smoothly into the uneasy silence. “Until the circumstances that caused her brother’s health issues are resolved.” He offered his hand to Zack, more a dare than a greeting.

“Bodyguard.” Zack rounded on her, his disbelief evident. “Lanie, you hired a
bodyguard?”

She didn’t see Rowan move, but his muscular frame was now between her and Zack. Rowan frowned. “If it’s any of your concern, which it is not, Archer hired me.”

“I assume you have a license?” Zack glared at the big Scot. “References?”

“I’m well-qualified to keep her safe.” A tendon ticked in Rowan’s cheek as the two men locked hands.

The mutually hostile grip lasted an eternity, both men’s knuckles whitening.

“Chill, guys, before your heads explode.” Vanessa, who along with Jason had stopped dancing to warily monitor the encounter, scowled at the duo. “I don’t think Archer wants to scrub testosterone splatter off his walls.”

“Rowan…meet my best friend.” Delaney gestured at Van. “Vanessa Clare.”

Rowan and Zack broke their impasse, and Rowan offered his hand to Vanessa. “Ms. Clare.”

Her scowl deepening, Vanessa accepted the handshake. “Viper.”

Rowan’s lips twitched ever so slightly, but his thoughts were still blocked to Delaney.

She shot a silent
work-with-me-here
plea at Van. “And Zack’s partner, Detective Jason Kim.”

No pissing contest erupted when Jason and Rowan shook hands, which she supposed was progress.

When Rowan leaned close to Delaney, his invigorating scent curled through her. Rousing thoughts of his fevered kisses, his stroking hands…and making her thighs tighten.

“Delaney, I need to be having a private word with you.”

Zack bristled. “Anything you have to say, you can say right here.”

Sure. Let’s talk about how fast he ripped off my panties.

The glint of green in Rowan’s eyes told her perhaps she wasn’t shielding as effectively as he was.

“Go home, Walker,” she warned. “Nobody speaks for me except me. And I have a lot to say to this guy.”

She bared her teeth at Rowan and crooked her index finger in the same challenging
come-hither
he’d once given her. “Right this way.”

As she spun on her heel and stalked off, she caught Van’s saucy wink accompanied by her friend’s silently mouthed,
Kick his ass.

Delaney led the way to the private elevator. Punched in her code. Rowan followed her inside, where she stabbed the button for the rooftop. Taking him to her apartment felt too much like an invasion of her personal space. In spite of the fact that forty-eight hours ago, they’d been as intimate as two people could get.

She held her tongue while the car chugged upward, acutely aware of him close beside her, of his heat and Power. But no idea what was going on inside his head.

The doors trundled open and they walked onto the rooftop terrace. Behind a high stone wall on the opposite side was where Archer housed his helicopter. Archer flew anything and everything, every chance he got. Since discovering her friend possessed actual wings—one of them broken—his obsession for piloting and parasailing had gained new significance.

This half of the roof was Archer’s secluded garden retreat, which he generously shared with her. Lush with potted plants and bubbling fountains, and alluringly lit by hundreds of tiny white lights.

Maintaining her silence, she wandered over to the wide, waist-high outer wall to admire illuminated windows scattered like jewels on the black velvet backdrop of the city below.

It was Rowan’s move. He’d have to talk first.

Behind her, he shifted. Cleared his throat. “You look…like the warrior goddess you are.”

Butterfly wings fluttered in her stomach.
Very good start.
“Thank you.”

“If you’re chilly, you can have my coat.”

“I’m fine. It’s lovely out tonight.”

“Delaney,” he said quietly. “I would ask you to look at me.”

She turned, and her breath caught. Moonbeams outlined the strong planes of his masculine features, his guarded gray eyes reflecting the stars. “‘Tis an apology I’m owing you. I owe many apologies, but ‘tis too late for those.”

“It’s not too late. I can accept your apology. Depending on how sincere it is.”

“I must tell you… You need to know…” The raw pain in his voice staggered her. “I killed them all.”

Bewilderment had her shaking her head. “Who?”

“My family. ‘Tis my fault they’re dead.”

His pain instantly became her own. “Rowan—” She reached for him, but he flinched back. She dropped her hands. “Why do you say that?”

“Because the blame for their deaths lies solely with me. I…I thought I was in love. Once before.” His Adam’s apple jerked convulsively. “She went by the name of Paiton. She approached me to be my apprentice. I craved a soulmate, like the relationship my parents have—
Had.”
A pause. “Paiton was everything I wanted. Everything I needed. We became lovers, though ‘twas forbidden by Cabal law.”

A hollow pit opened in her stomach. He’d loved and lost another woman. A woman who’d been
everything
to him. “You were punished for breaking this law? So you’re afraid because you and I—?”

“Nay. I am your mentor, but you are not a Mage.” He stalked to the wall, paced in front of it. “The only punishment bestowed on me was suffering
I
caused. You see, Paiton was not at all what she appeared. She only wanted access to my knowledge and Powers. That was also forbidden, but I gave it to her anyway. I gave it all away. Willingly.”

The picture grew heartrendingly clear. “Paiton used your own Powers to betray you.”

“Aye. She spent two and a half years building my trust, learning my secrets.” He stared at the skyline, his profile etched in granite. “One night when I slept, she bound my Powers. Worse, through her connection with me, she devised a spell to bind the Powers of everyone in my bloodline. Paiton led me out to the courtyard in shackles, then called up her demon horde. She chained me to a stone wall, sodding helpless to stop them while they slaughtered my entire village. Every man, woman, and child.” He scrubbed a palm over his face. “My grandparents. Parents. My cousins.”

Rowan’s voice dropped to a hoarse whisper as he bowed his head. “She cut out my father’s heart and held it aloft like a trophy, still throbbing in her hands. And the only thing I could do was watch them all die.”

Delaney bit the inside of her lip until she tasted blood.
“Oh, God.”
That was the harrowing massacre she’d seen and heard on the beach when she’d touched him. “I’m so
sorry,
which is…so inadequate.”

 “I don’t merit your sympathy. My family’s murder was only the beginning of the carnage. ‘Twas the catalyst to the Dark Uprising, during which thousands of Mages and Guardians were killed. On
my
watch.” His jaw clenched so tight she was afraid it might snap. “The year I spent chained in the desert afterward, the thirst, the pain, Paiton’s mocking taunts… The slow, torturous task of gathering enough Magic from a few precious daily allotted droplets of drinking water to eventually escape.
That
I deserved.”

Anger swelled in her chest, and a planter of geraniums behind him exploded. “It was
not
your fault Paiton used you. Power-hungry psychopaths are impossible to stop. She would’ve found a way to make it happen. If not with you, with someone else.”

“Aye, but I should’ve suspected. Should never have trusted her.”

“Unless we’ve been betrayed before, we don’t go through life suspecting people who get close to us of having ulterior motives.”

“I should have. I’m a Mage. Chieftain of Clan MacLachlan. I carry all the knowledge and ancestral memories of my lineage, have lived our entire history. And yet I failed my Clan. Failed my family.” He stabbed an index finger into his sternum. “Because I failed to recognize the Sorceress whose Gift is deception.”

Stunned realization sent the stars into a nauseating spin. “Paiton is
Ceard?”

“You see, now?” His mouth thinned in a disgusted grimace. “I thought I was in love with Balor’s whore.”

And the soulless bitch had really done a number on him. “I do see. You’re afraid of getting close to another woman. To
me.
You’re scared of having feelings for me, because you’re scared I’ll betray you too.”

 “You misunderstand. I do not fear your betrayal.”

“Good, because I
won’t.
I won’t let you down, Rowan. You have
my
oath.”

“You still don’t ken, do you?” Rowan pivoted to face her. “I swore an oath on my family’s graves to bring them justice. Stopping Ceard and Balor is the
only
thing I live for. I do not care what, or
who
I have to destroy.”

His eyes narrowed to silver shards of ice. “I brought you into this fight, fully knowing the butchery they are capable of. Be warned, Delaney. If it boils down to a choice, ‘tis I who will betray
you.”

Chapter 15

White-hot fury detonated inside Delaney. Then every pot and fountain on the rooftop exploded. Scorching wind blasted around her, blowing back her hair and whipping Rowan’s long coat. The entire garden shriveled.

Rowan took a step back from her. Then another.

Shaking, she clenched her fists, fighting for control. She inhaled. Counted to ten. Then twenty. The wind died. “We are so sending her back to Hell where she belongs!”

Rowan’s gaze locked on her face, every line of his big body rigid.
“Her?”

“Paiton. Ceard, whatever.” She inhaled a trembling breath. “The vile, sadistic
bitch.”

“You are angry with
her
…and not me?”

“Of course I’m not mad at you. What did you expect? That your confession would make me afraid of
you?
Make me run?”

“A wise woman would.”

She stepped toward him again. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

Although he watched her warily, this time he held his ground. “Nay. Anything but.”

“I understand betrayal, Rowan. I understand misplaced guilt about destroying your family’s lives. Been there, done that, have the brother in a coma, remember? I’ve also been inside your head. And I understand
exactly
what you’re made of. Apparently, better than you do.”

“Then you ken I speak the truth.”

“I believe
you
believe it’s the truth. Let me ask you something.”

Apprehension etched harsh grooves around his mouth. “Will saying nay stop you?”

She firmed her chin. “If you’re the only one to blame for what happened, how come none of the other Mages—some of whom, I assume, were older and wiser than you—recognized Ceard? How is it that she was not only able to deceive the Mage she was screwing senseless, but the entire village?”

He didn’t move. Didn’t seem to breathe for an eternity…while a hurricane raged in his eyes.

Then he pivoted, putting his back to her.

Delaney closed the distance between them. “You were raised to take responsibility from the moment you were born. To be a leader. But a
wise
leader also knows he’s not infallible. Knows when to delegate. You may not be mortal, but you’re not God either. You don’t have total control.
Or
total responsibility.”

She stroked his rigid back. “You offered trust, and in return, received betrayal. Offered love, and in return, received hatred.” He was the one shaking now. “Rowan. Now I would ask you to look at me.”

A long hesitation. Movements stiff, he slowly turned. A storm of emotions leaked through his shields, swirled in his aura. Dread. Hurt. Confusion. A whisper-thin tendril of hope.

Delaney gentled her voice. “A
very
wise man recently gave me valuable insight. He said what my stepfather did to me was
his
shame and guilt to bear. Not mine.” She rested her hand on Rowan’s chest, felt his heart lurch beneath her palm. “What Ceard did to your family was
Ceard’s
fault.
Ceard’s
responsibility. And you know
I
speak the truth.”

His lips trembled as naked longing stamped his face, every defense stripped bare. “I cannot offer you what you want. What you deserve. I have no future beyond my next breath.”

 “None of us do. Nobody knows what tomorrow will bring.” She embraced his gaze with her own. Wrapped him in warm Power…and absolution. “All I want, Rowan, is right now. With you. For the time we have left.”

His throat worked, and a low sound of anguish escaped. He grabbed her shoulders and yanked her to him. Slanted his mouth over hers.

Wild, fevered. The taste of him intoxicated her, jolted her system with shocking pleasure. She smelled the crisp autumn breeze on him, and the salty tang of the ocean. As always when he kissed her, it was as if the world spun away…the boundaries blurred between her desperate need and his. He wrapped his arms around her so tightly she could hardly breathe, and his erection pressed into her stomach.

Craving skin-to-skin contact, she tugged apart the lapels of his coat, pulled it down his arms. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugged out of it. He fumbled with his gun, tossed onto his discarded coat. She kept her mouth fused to his, drinking him in, as she tore open his shirt placket, scattering buttons everywhere. The garment landed in a crumpled heap on the rooftop.

Delaney ran her palms over the smooth, firm planes of his chest, bare skin hot, his heartbeat galloping beneath her touch.

He whirled them around and backed her to the wall, his chest rubbing hers, his hips rotating the hard length of his erection against her sensitive mons. Desire blazed, firing low in her belly, clenching her thighs.

His hands kneaded her breasts, his thumbs teasing the nipples to tight buds inside the satin of her bra. She arched into him, wanting his mouth on them, wanting
him
more than she’d ever wanted anything.

And he knew it.

Their thoughts melded, their Powers dancing around them in a swirling cocoon of heat and light.
Aye, and I’m wanting you naked.

Then quit dawdling, and get me naked.

His laugh flooded her with a wave of happiness. Still commanding the kiss, Rowan ripped open her dress from neckline to hem, yanked apart her bra, tore off her panties. His lips roved down her throat. Gentle teeth nipped along her collarbone, across the slope of her breasts, before his wet, silky tongue licked, soothed, inciting a volley of shivers.

Then his mouth captured her nipple, the exquisite shock buckling her knees. She gripped his wide shoulders for balance and cried out as he sucked hard, first one nipple, then the other in strong, liquid pulls that tugged at her core.

Rowan, please!

His lips curved against her breast.
What, sweetheart?

Make love to me.

Is that not what I’m doing, then?

She moaned.
It’s not enough.

His hands spanned her waist and lifted her to sit on the ledge. He leaned in to steal another searing kiss. Then eased back, panting, to gaze at her. “Even the moon is envious of your beauty.”

Her heart turned over. She raised her knees and rested her boot heels on the ledge, completely open to him.

His eyes darkened. The feral growl that rumbled from his chest stopped her breath and curled her toes. “Saints help me,” he whispered hoarsely.

Unzipping his jeans, he stepped between her thighs. His arms went around her, holding her tightly to him at the same moment he plunged into her. Stretching her, filling her all the way in one electric glide.

Delaney cried out once more as he began to thrust, the urge to bring him deep inside compelling her to wrap her legs around his waist and lock her ankles at the small of his back.

Rowan gasped.
You wreck me, luv.

She tumbled into the whirlpool of erotic sensation. The fine hairs on Rowan’s chest rasping her nipples. His low, heated moans shivering in her ear. The sensual stimulation of his jeans grazing her inner thighs with every fast, pumping stroke.

And at the center of it all was Rowan…driving the wonderful, intense pressure to fierce need.

Suspended between Heaven and earth, between Rowan’s solidly-muscled torso and a dizzying drop, the starlit sky spun in a dazzling pinwheel. She trusted him not to let her fall. Trusted him enough to let him take control. Intimately linked with him, she relinquished everything…gave Rowan the freedom of her complete trust.

And he sent her soaring.

The orgasm crashed through her in a riptide. Hard and fast, clenching her muscles, tearing a scream from her throat. Before she had time to even catch her breath, he speared another backlash of pleasure into her. When she hit the second crest, Rowan threw back his head, straining, shaking, his hips pistoning as a fervent stream of Gaelic tumbled from his lips.

Then his thrusts slowed to long, slow glides, the fine sandpaper of his cheek pressed to hers as he held her close.

Finally he stopped moving, and she listened to his breathing even out.

When he drew back slightly to look at her, she tensed. Would he bolt again?

The corners of his mouth curled sinfully. “Remind me to tell you how much I admire your new boots.”

Pure joy bubbled up in a surprised laugh. “I think you just did.”

“Are you cold, sweetheart?”

“Nowhere even
one bit
cold.”

He kissed the tip of her nose as he withdrew from her body. He re-buttoned and zipped his jeans. “Nevertheless, I should be getting you indoors.”

He swung her down from the ledge, then had to steady her until her legs would work. He arched a rueful brow at their scattered garments, torn to shreds. “You’ll need to wear my coat.”

“Luckily, it’s a private elevator.” Unless they happened to bump into Archer.
Please don’t let us bump into Archer.

Rowan helped her into his long duster. Delaney watched him gather the tattered remnants of their clothing and smiled. “We’ll call your shirt and my dress a draw, Enforcer, but you owe me new undies.”

 He tucked his Beretta into his back waistband. “And you owe Archer an arse-load of new plants.”

She grimaced at the mess she’d accidentally made of Archer’s paradise. “How am I going to explain
this?”

“Let me try something.” He passed her the bundle of clothes, and then held out both hands, palms upward. He chanted softly. At first, nothing happened. His body started to tremble. He chanted faster. Dizziness hit her like a freight train as a whooshing noise swooped overhead. Then the pots, dirt, and wilted flowers reassembled.

A cool mist arose, swirled over the rooftop…and revived all the plants.

She shook her head to clear it, fighting sudden weakness that had invaded her limbs. “Okay, you definitely have mad skills, Enforcer.”
In every area.

Rowan exhaled hard. “Now you owe me.”

She flashed him a glimpse of her naked body beneath his coat. “No pockets. You’ll have to put this one on
my
tab.”

Amusement danced in his gaze as he ushered her into the elevator. “I’m sure we can barter mutually satisfying payback.”

She leaned against his substantial warmth while the car descended. His clever fingers stroked soothingly through her hair, sliding out hairpins and massaging her scalp and temples.
“Mmmm,
MacLachlan…there’s no end to your talents.”
I’d like to keep you around.

She squelched the revealing thought, hoping he hadn’t gleaned it from her mind.

At her apartment door, she tapped numbers into the combo keypad lock and alarm. “Archer has state of the art security in the building. Pay attention to the code so you can let yourself in when you need to.”

“You don’t mind if I have access to your flat?”

“I trust you with much more, Rowan,” she said softly. Given time, he’d learn to trust her, too.

Unfortunately, time was a luxury they didn’t have.

He touched the small of her back and bent as if to breathe her in.
Lord, I’ve missed you, luv. And I should not. I cannot need you.

She caught the sad, wistful thought an instant before he suppressed it. Her chest constricted. She flicked on a lamp before walking across the room to start the gas fireplace. “You want a shower? While you’re in there, I’ll have food sent up from downstairs.”

“I have a better idea.” He prowled across the floor toward her. Grinning, he twitched open her borrowed coat.
“We’ll
take a shower. Then food.”

She cast an astounded glance at his bulging fly.
Again? Already?
“Market that stamina and you’d make a fortune.”

“I’d best be conserving my stamina. I seem to need it when I’m around you.” Chuckling, he followed her into the bathroom. “I like your flat. I feel at home here. It puts me in mind of the beach.”

“Thanks. An ocean vibe was my intent.” She’d complemented pale aqua walls in the main rooms with a mix of tan and white furniture and eclectic coastal accents for that very reason. When Archer had modernized the plumbing, he’d kept the old-fashioned claw-footed tub in the bathroom because she loved it, and continued her beachy scheme with sand-toned Venetian plaster walls and sparkling blue-green mosaic tiles in the separate shower.

Delaney hung Rowan’s coat on the back of the door. She opened the walk-in glass door and leaned in to crank on the tap. Steamy water hissed from the showerhead. “I like it hot.”

“As do I.” His husky tone made her turn, to see his gaze cruising over her bottom. His eyes glittered brilliant green with blatant appreciation that thrilled her to her toes.

Their previous two encounters hadn’t given her much opportunity to enjoy looking at him. The first time, he’d flipped her on her back nearly the instant she’d opened his zipper. And on the rooftop, she hadn’t even seen him. She unzipped her boots and climbed in, luxuriating in the spray while she watched him strip off his boots, socks, and jeans with his usual efficient grace.

He stepped into the shower, dominating the space. Her breath snagged in her throat. For the first time in her entire life, Delaney was rendered speechless. She’d known her Mage was packing, but up-close-and-personal…

Have mercy.

Rowan raked back his thick mane, making the huge muscles in his biceps bunch, and his sculpted abs ripple. “There’s something I should’ve told you before.” When she didn’t reply, he arched a brow. “Earth to Delaney.”

“Um…yes?”
Hell
yes. Who cared about the question?

His smile warmed, informing her he read her loud and clear. “We didn’t discuss consequences from our encounters.”

“I’m on the pill, which yeah, you probably should’ve asked before you leaped on me. And I know, you don’t get sick.”

“There’s no need for pills, either.”

She bit her lip. “You…you’re…infertile?” He truly was the last of his lineage? No exquisite MacLachlan children with raven black hair and expressive silver-green eyes.

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