

### Contents

Journey

Books by Claudy Conn

What reviewers are saying

Copyright Page

~ One ~

~ Two ~

~ Three ~

~ Four ~

~ Five ~

~ Six ~

~ Seven ~

~ Eight ~

~ Nine ~

~ Ten ~

~ Eleven ~

~ Twelve ~

~ Thirteen ~

~ Fourteen ~

~ Fifteen ~

~ Sixteen ~

~ Seventeen ~

~ Eighteen ~

~ Nineteen ~

~ Twenty ~

~ Twenty-One ~

Excerpt: Journey—The Reckoning (unedited)

Excerpt: Prince Prelude—Legend

~ Prologue ~

~ One ~

~ Two ~

About Claudy Conn

Read more about Claudy Conn's books

Journey

Books by Claudy Conn

### available at smashwords.com

Hungry Moon Series

Hungry Moon: Quicksilver

Hungry Moon: Destiny

Hungry Moon: Jodi

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Legend Series

Prince Prelude—Legend

Spellbound—Legend

Aaibhe—Shee Queen (Novelette)

Shee Willow—Legend

Prince in the Mist (Novella)

Trapped—Legend

Free Falling—Legend

Catch & Hold—Legend

~

Through Time Series (time travel)

Through Time-Pursuit

Through Time-Whiplash

Through Time-Slamming

Through Time-Frankie

Through Time-Compulsion

~

Shadow Series

ShadowLove—Stalkers

ShadowHeart—Slayer

ShadowLife—Hybrid

~

Risqué Regencies

Myriah Fire

Oh, Cherry Ripe

Rogues, Rakes and Jewels

Taffeta and Hotspur

Wildfire Kiss

After the Storm

Runaway Heart

Lady Bess

Lady Star

Serena

~

Witches, Warlocks, and Dark Magic

Dark Love

Netherby Halls

Lady X

~

Multi-book Bundles

Claudy Conn's Bestselling Regencies

The Complete Legend Series

What reviewers are saying  
about Claudy's books

ShadowLove—Stalkers is hot, Hot, HOT

_ShadowLove—Stalkers_ is filled with steaming action and dramatic tension ... Claudy delicately plants the seeds for future development and characters without distracting from the excitement and romance of Stalkers. The result is that she has a paranormal, vampire series, of romance novels, which carries her own unique and spicy aroma.

_ShadowLove—Stalkers_ is hot, Hot, HOT ... and yes, I am blushing.

~ Vonnie Faroqui, _Ink Slinger's Whimsey_

Five Cups and a CTTR (Coffee Time Reviewer's Recommend) Award

_ShadowLove—Stalkers_ is a story that immediately hooks the reader. It reminds me of a roller coaster just beginning, only to plunge into speed, drawing the reader into non-stop action. Intense and spellbinding, this paranormal romance kept this reader engrossed until the conclusion. I loved the passion and chemistry between the main characters. With tremendous action and well thought out characters, this fantastic read sizzles and sparks like a firecracker.

~ _Coffee Time Romance & More_

Trapped Legend has my pulse skyrocketing!

A clever, fast paced, unpredictable blend of action, adventure, mystery, magic and steamy hot loving ... I picked it up and couldn't tear myself away from it until I read the last page.

I highly recommend each book in Claudy's Legend series. You're seriously missing out on some wonderful adventures if you haven't read the previous stories. It's by far one of the most exceptionally crafted, enchanting Fae series I've ever read.

~ Candice Stauffer, author

Five Stars for ShadowHeart—Slayer

This second in Conn's Shadow series is filled with vampires, a vampire slayer, demons, wizards, a Fae prince and an unlikely romance. Claudy Conn does an excellent job of making this a standalone story while incorporating some of the characters from the first book and introducing us to several new characters. The war is still brewing and now the fae are becoming involved. Can't wait for the next book in the series.

This is another one I couldn't put down and read in a single sitting. I got so caught up in the action I was sad to see it end. Fans of the paranormal romance, urban fantasy and vampire genres should enjoy this as well.

~ Wild About Bones _on GoodReads_

One hot and thrilling book

I fell for all three of the main characters, fun loving Maxie, dark and brooding Julian, and one hot Fae, Breslyn. However, it wasn't just the characters that kept me on the edge of my seat, it was the entire involved plot that included jealously, betrayal, magic, murder, and, of course, hot passion ... The well-written out mixture of myth and legend, not to mention the characters, all in today's world has me Joyfully Recommending _Spellbound—Legend_ as one book you won't want to miss.

~ Jo, Joyfully Reviewed

### Journey

By

Claudy Conn

Copyright Page

Journey

By Claudy Conn

http://www.claudyconn.com

Copyright © 2014 by Claudy Conn

Edited by: Karen Babcock

Cover Artist: Kendra Egert

All rights reserved

Smashwords editions

October 2014

Excerpt of _Journey—The Reckoning_

Copyright © 2014 by Claudy Conn

Excerpt of _Prince Prelude—Legend_

Copyright © 2013 by Claudy Conn

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Names, characters, and events depicted in this book are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

Do not go where the path may lead; go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.

\- Ralph Waldo Emerson

~ One ~

HOW DID IT get to be so late? The morning was nearly gone, and I wasn't halfway through all the chores I had set for myself. I am a work-alcoholic, or so I have been told, and I suppose it is the truth _. I have no life_. I am twenty-four years old and own an upscale store we—we being my partner Betty and I—started four years ago while I was still in my last year at Columbia University.

A groan made its way out of my mouth as I stared at the boxes of perfect knit infant-wear to be uniquely displayed in our substantial window overlooking New York City's famous Fifth Avenue. How we had managed to get this location at the price we did, I still don't know. That was all Betty!

Betty laughed at me and shook her head. "Why don't you let Joe do that when he gets here? I mean, Riley, that's what he does—windows. You can't do it all, hon—you just can't."

Betty is not only my partner, but over the last four years she has become my best friend. I sighed and was about to cave and agree with her when I heard the bell that rings whenever the shop door opens. I stepped back from the display window and glanced absently over to the newcomer.

Damn, hot damn, but that absent glance turned into a stare as I nearly knocked over an entire shelf of infant sweaters. _What have we here?_

I am never bowled over by a good-looking man. I have always needed more, but one look at this hottie, and my eyebrows went up and my heart started thumping. I know, _crazy_. What happened next was not really something I was immediately able to control. Hormones are like that, you know. I felt them start marching to a fervent beat, and my throat went dry.

Everything about him was 'money and power,' which wasn't unusual, as we run a very high-end children's clothing store that features handmade items and custom-made clothing. Our customers are wealthy, and we even get our fair share of celebrities—again, due to Betty's contacts. Even so, I discovered my usual calm completely blown apart.

He wore a smile that was more a cool smirk, and it boldly shouted, _I've got it all, and I don't care._ I am rarely intimidated by this sort, and yet, there I was, right from my head to my toes, ready to hide and watch him from a hidden corner. _Absolutely ridiculous_.

I tried to turn away, but not before I took another survey and put him down to memory. I liked the way his thick, blue-black hair was styled in layers of shiny waves, some of which fell across his forehead and over his ears. I swallowed as my appraisal then determined that not only was he very tall—well over six feet—but he also had strong, football-man shoulders. All at once, I was oddly reminded of Wolverine, predatory and more than capable.

He was dressed in an expensive black sports jacket over what looked like a gray silk T-shirt. His black pants were also silky and hung over his hips in masculine lines. His green eyes opened wide and held a glint of something undefined as he looked me over, and I felt my cheeks suddenly burn. Did I say undefined? That's not right. Those green eyes said, _Bed ... going to take you to bed_.

My tongue slicked over my bottom lip, and I hurriedly decided I needed to study an article of clothing hanging on a nearby rack.

Even as I managed to look away and mentally slap myself, I couldn't help glancing back over my shoulder at him. _What is wrong with me? I don't behave like this._ I don't, and there I was, not able to stop looking at him again.

I know better than to allow myself to be attracted to the kind of man _I was sure he was_ , and yet, I couldn't keep my eyes off him.

Then I noticed myself in the mirrored wall to my left and nearly rolled my eyes. I was a mess. Both my top and my skirt had hiked up when I'd bent over the display case, and not in that cute, 'have a peek at my midriff', way. No, I was a rumpled mess, with a little extra thigh thrown in as a bonus. And my hair? Don't ask.

As it happens, I have an option most women don't possess. I could right myself with a blink of an eye, but _magic_ is a thing I don't play with unless I absolutely have to do so. Magic is a natural option for me. I don't need potions or chants or even my Rowan Wand, though I prefer to hold onto it when I actually perform magic. I can blink, think, point my finger and ... _magic._

He walked past me without a word and smiled at Betty as I pulled my blue cotton knit top back into place, smoothed out the wrinkles from my cream-colored pencil skirt, and undid the tie holding only some of my black hair up. I was still raking my fingers through the thick strands of my hair when he turned, swept his gaze over me, and smirked.

Everything about him had me off balance. He said something to Betty, but I couldn't hear what it was, unusual as I have exceptional hearing—very exceptional hearing.

"Riley?" Betty called me over with a wave of her hand. "This gentleman would like a word with you."

I turned around and slid a hand over my clothes again, frowning slightly. I mean, what could he want with me?

_Holy shit_! The way he appraised me made my knees wobble, and I almost tripped over myself. Almost. I managed to stay upright, although I couldn't think straight.

If that wasn't bad enough, I then made the mistake of meeting his eyes as I approached. He had a killer smile. At that moment that dangerous smile was all for me. I found myself changed from the capable business woman I had become into a pile of Jell-O. No mind, no bones, just Jell-O. In this state, staring at him, you see, full on, he had taken my breath away. He had reduced me to a thoughtless blob of gelatin.

As I said, I know better than to be affected by a good-looking guy. Been there, done that, got burned. Here is the thing: I was not looking for hot, or so I had convinced myself. I was a mature young woman and smarter than I used to be. What I wanted was sure and steady. So, the question was, what the hell?

I looked into those sultry green eyes of his and decided that I had to get control and keep this man and his hotness at arm's length. He was everything I had made up my mind to stay away from.

I put on my business smile and the business exterior I had developed over the last four years and went forward, my hand extended and a professional welcome plastered on my face.

He took my fingers, and I felt a super-charged laser beam of sensation singe my veins. The sensation shot through my arm and up to my head. It was like a blast of electricity, unexpected but not painful—rather, it was oddly titillating and pleasurable, more pleasurable than anything I had ever experienced before. His touch created an eruption of hot blood—or was it lava?—in my veins. It swept through me, turned me into an idiot that couldn't speak at all.

_Speak_? I couldn't form a clear thought. His touch had burned my brain into a pile of ash.

The sound of his voice was like a balm, dreamy and soft, and it held that Irish accent I love so well. "I thought I recognized ye from yer pictures, Miss Doogan. Maddy had them all over the house." He inclined his head. "I am so very sorry for yer loss."

"You ... you know—knew my grandmother?" Who was this guy? I had lost my granny three months earlier, and I was still reeling from that loss. I couldn't seem to stop thinking she would call ... even now when the phone rings (which isn't often these days unless it is business) I think for a second it is my grandmother, and I then remember she is gone.

"Aye, we really became quite close this past year after I moved back to Dunraven. I'm Finn, Finn Dunraven."

I had a really difficult time processing anything beyond my reaction to him at that moment and the information that he and my grandmother had become, as he said, close.

Okay, bad enough that I was tongue-tied, absolutely intimidated by his hotness, his coolness, his overwhelming sexual vibe, but this was the Finn Dunraven my grandmother had spoken so often about! Everything she had gone on and on about in regards to him all came back to me in a wave of sudden clarity.

The Dunraven estate, this man's estate, had always been in our town of Sutterville, Maine. The estate had been there for centuries, but no one had ever been in residence there while I was growing up. Now, out of the blue, here he was.

I was overwhelmed by his presence. There is no other way to describe how I felt. I wanted to say something intelligent, but all I could do was nod at him as I tried to regain my composure and hoped he wasn't actually aware of my complete engine failure.

Finally I managed a quiet, "Thank you." _Breathe_ , I told myself. _Breathe._ I should tell him that my grandmother spoke of him. I should say, yes, I had heard he was installed back at Dunraven this past year. What did I do? I went into business mode and asked, "What can I do for you, Mr. Dunraven?"

"Ah, right to the point, eh, lass?" He grinned, and I felt like a complete ass. Where were my manners?

He licked his bottom lip as he considered me, and I fixated on his tongue. Insane. I had suddenly fallen into the land of the lost.

He said, "I have a business proposition for ye, Miss Doogan. Could ye, do ye think, spare me a half hour?"

A proposition? What was he saying? Business? What kind of business? I couldn't understand what he could possibly want to propose to me. I must have had a question on my face, because he chuckled, and his twinkling green eyes drew a smile from me. _Oh_ , I told myself immediately, _he is dangerous_. His charm was the kind that seeped in and took over when you weren't ready and didn't realize.

_Okay, brain, get it together_ , I told myself. He was a man, _just a man_.

_But_ , those nasty hormones of mine whispered, _ah, but listen to his voice, that seductive Irish lilt, and his eyes, oh my gosh, his eyes!_

STOP.

I really had to pull myself together.

I looked at Betty, who is often much wiser than I about a variety of subjects. She has ten years on me, a husband, and a newborn. She is stable, and I have gotten into the habit of leaning on her when life gets too hard. Life gets hard unexpectedly and often more so since I lost Granny.

Betty and I make a good team and have a thriving, growing business. So, of course, I looked at her for help, hoping she would get me out of this. I didn't trust myself to go anywhere with this man.

_Help_ _?_ HA! She wasn't giving the kind I sought. Just the opposite. She said, "Go on, Riley—you need a cup of coffee, and it wouldn't hurt you to eat something too. When was the last time you ate?" The mother in her always fussed over me.

I grinned stupidly, and when I looked back up at Dunraven, I knew I was in trouble. I was so very dazzled by him. I brilliantly offered, "I ... I ... um."

He smirked. "An easy thing to decide, lass ... and may I presume to say that yer grandmother told me she wanted you and I to meet. Now is a good time."

I was on an edge. I knew if I took one step, just one step, I would fall. I am a sure and steady person. I don't walk near the edge.

I decided this was definitely not a good time, and I would just tell him that.

"Sure, but only for a short time ... I have so much work to do today and don't want to fall behind." Obviously, the part of the brain controlling my mouth had other ideas.

Betty grimaced at me, waved me off, and said even more forcefully this time, " _Go...go on_ , you need a break, Riley. Take as long as you like. Mornings have been slow ... now off with you."

Betty had tried everything she knew to get me to agree to take a vacation. She cajoled and begged and commanded and even did the 'mother' thing, but working was a balm for my troubles, and losing my grandmother was—still is—a really difficult thing.

I didn't want time to think about it, and work ate up my time. I knew she felt guilty because she took all of July off after the birth of her baby girl. I had promised her I would take August, and I'd even fooled myself for a while into thinking that I would, but ... _I didn't_. I should have. I needed to get up to Granny's—now my—home and sort out the paperwork and everything. The thought of my grandmother no longer waiting there for me, though, still sends shooting pains through my heart.

I'd lost her to a stroke when she was only seventy, a young seventy, and I'd thought she would live forever. She had been my all from the moment I lost both my parents in a car accident that left me alive. I was twelve at the time.

Well, here it was, four days into August, super slow at work, and I was still in NYC, humming away my summer in denial.

I couldn't say no to Dunraven (I don't imagine too many say no to a man like him), but I knew he was right, that my grandmother would want me to be polite and give him some attention. That was a biggy for me.

He stood patiently while I worked things out in my head. Betty kept up a steady stream of conversation with him as I excused myself and hurried to the back to wash up and put a brush to my long hair. I stared into the mirror above the sink. Violet eyes stared back at me. True violet, like the flower.

_Right, okay, go on_ , I urged myself, but my feet seemed firmly planted on the bathroom floor. I finally sucked in a huge gulp of air, let it out, and made my way back to Betty and Dunraven.

He held the door open for me, and as I stepped through he said on a low, very low note, "Ye smell of vanilla and heather."

I don't wear perfume because it is true. My grandmother began remarking upon it when I turned eighteen. She said my natural scent was strong and exotic and I shouldn't hide it with perfume.

I changed the subject and asked, as I stepped out into the morning's bright sun, "Well, now, what is the business you wish to speak to me about?"

His voice was low and underlined with something that made me fidget inwardly. "Right then, lass, I see a nice coffee shop across the avenue. We'll talk there, shall we?"

My curiosity defeated but warning myself to treat him with extreme caution, I said as warily as I felt, "Sure."

As he led me outside and to the curbing, his strong hand touched my elbow and drove me wild. It was as though something massaged one end of my network of nerves, deep inside my body, and that caused the whole damn intricate system to light up. Alarms were going off. My nerve endings were all tingling with pleasure and anticipation. They wanted more. This was crazy.

My first instinct was to do what I do so well. I am more than I seem to humans, more than I ever wanted to be, and as I said, I don't play with magic unless it's absolutely necessary. When it came to men, though, I tended to use my special skill. It was a handy tool, and if more women had it, sadly, they might not be with the man they chose.

_I could scan him_. Should I scan him?

Now and then when a guy comes at me with all he has, I do what _I call_ a mental scan. Granny used to call it a _reading_. She always said my ability to 'read' people was stronger than any other witch she had ever known. Oh, yes, witch here, born and bred. At any rate, Granny used to say that my ability came from my father, but I always mentally questioned that because, as far back as I can remember, I never heard Dad mention anything about 'reading' people. I was twelve, as I said, when I lost my parents, so I just figured I was too young to really remember ... or that I hadn't paid attention because I'd never wanted to be a witch. All I'd ever wanted was to fit in at school with everyone else, and I worked real hard at it.

At any rate, whether I wanted this skill or not, it had kept me safe over the years. Lonely, sexually inactive, but my heart was intact. Life with regards to men—nonexistent.

However, I'd been beginning to think maybe that wasn't a good thing. I'd come to believe that if we don't take chances, we miss out on more than we should. Well, the question here was, should I scan him—read him? It wasn't as though I would intrude into his mind. I can't really do that per say, but I can get actual 'intentions' and a sense of who they are and what they want from me.

Was it time to do a 'reading' see if Finn Dunraven was 'friend or foe'? I thought so.

I started with only a gentle probe, which meant I went in with a soft touch, like invisible fingers reaching, and feathered his mind with my touch.

Immediately I was jolted back and slammed into a wall. Not physically, though that was what it felt like _. My probe was sent packing_.

It was as though my entire body was hurtled out and backwards. I felt the rejection like a slap, and it was as though I were, like a boxer, down for the count. I felt almost winded by the contact and stumbled on my feet from the encounter.

He reached out and held me steady by my elbow, and I managed to give him an apologetic smile and hurriedly came up with a cover-up. "My ankle must have turned."

What was that in those dark green eyes of his? Amusement? It was as though he knew what I had just attempted. That wasn't possible. A human would never have known.

_Just what was that look, then_? Did he know? How could he know? I wasn't getting a magic vibe off him. Was he magical? Was he a warlock? Noo ... Granny would have said. She never told me he was a warlock, though I did remember her saying once that he was very unique. I wasn't getting a sense of anything magical, and if he was, I would ... at least, I thought I would. I was especially sensitive when meeting other witches. Why hadn't I been able to read him? What had shut me out, wait, not only shut me out but shoved me off?

Now, here was Finn Dunraven bringing her back to life, and the notion made me smile. I felt his scrutiny and told myself, _Okay, just keep walking, kiddo_.

All I could do right then was get this over with. _Just go in_ , I told myself, _have your coffee, and listen to what he has to say._ _Try not to look into his eyes._

At that precise moment, he actually took my hand and pulled me close as we reached the other side of the avenue and climbed up a high curb. Surprised by the hand clasping, I looked up, and _bam_ , those bright green eyes twinkled right into mine.

Softly and unexpectedly he said, as though we were the only two people standing on the sidewalk, as though busy shoppers weren't trying to get by us, "I have never seen such eyes, lass _._ _Violet,_ true violet like a splash of color on canvas, deep and rich. Ye could slay a man with just yer eyes alone, and I have no doubt ye have."

I laughed. What else could I do? What do you say to something like that? People have always remarked about the color of my eyes, so I am used to it. I said ruefully, "It is just a color. No one else in my family ever had violet eyes, so I don't know where they came from, but still ... just a color."

He frowned "I have seen such a color only once before." A thoughtful expression passed over his handsome features, and then he stepped forward, my hand still in his.

Not much I could say to that, so I just let it drop there and smiled. As I couldn't pull my hand out of his without appearing rude, I allowed it to stay tucked into his. Admittedly, it felt great, my hand in his. I excused myself and thought, _Sure, it feels great. His hold is warm and comforting, but I am not that woman_. I don't ordinarily allow a man—especially someone I just met—to hold my hand. I have lots of reasons I could list for resisting relationships, and hand-holding _is to me_ a personal and intimate thing.

What was worse for me at that moment, besides the fact that I allowed him to take my hand, allowed him to lead me along, was the question, the pulsating question of what the frigging heck was happening to me?

Sensations shivered through his palm into mine and scooted through my entire body! I liked those sensations. My lashes fluttered as my breath hitched. What was he doing to me? This was crazy. Someone like him—well, he must have had models falling all over him.

He gently led me to the front door of the café and managed to open the door wide without releasing my hand. Awareness scurried through me. I was all too aware of him, of his masculinity, of an undercurrent of sensual promise.

From the moment I met Finn Dunraven, I had been stuck in a world where I'd been transformed into a foolish, mindless twit. Over and over again I told myself, _Breathe, just breathe_ , because I was out of breath if for no other reason than I had forgotten how this necessary body function worked.

I was stuck somewhere in my head looking for my grandmother's advice. Everything felt off, but she was gone. I had so many regrets ... so much left undone, unsaid.

I had never allowed her to make me a part of her coven. I regret that now. It could have been something we would have shared and enjoyed together. I could have learned more about the 'witching process'. I always thought I had time.

I apparently wasn't mature enough to accept what I was, what I could be. I have come to realize that you should embrace who you are, be who you are, and be the best at what you are. I wish I had told her that ... but I hadn't and will never be able to.

I tried. When they'd called me to tell me she was in the hospital, I spent a fortune to charter a flight, and thank goodness I had arrived in time. We only had a few moments together, we only had a few words before I lost her, and she spent those last moments comforting me.

She told me that the love we shared would always be with me and keep her close in my heart, but you know, when you lose someone you love, those are just words.

Three months later, however, I'd found that, in a way, she was with me. It was something, but it wasn't enough. Memories even now just aren't enough.

Finn had brought her back into my busy head. I could see her brightly laughing over some nonsense. She wasn't quite with me, but she wasn't totally absent either. Work had helped me resolve the issue.

I put these thoughts aside because I had to concentrate as I walked, which seemed to be an art form I had failed to master as he led me up to the hostess merrily coming forward to greet us.

She was bright and chipper and, I noted, out of breath herself as she stared, and I do mean stared, at Dunraven. I couldn't blame her; he was something to look at.

She directed us to a booth and said in a husky voice meant only for him, "Enjoy your breakfast, and if there is anything else I can do for you ..." She allowed her words to trail off.

_Oh, puh-lease_ , I thought.

As I scooted into the booth and he took his place opposite me, I found myself looking into those eyes of his. I was struck by something ... something 'old world' in the recesses of his expression.

Again, I wondered why I had not been able to scan him.

I folded my hands into each other as I placed them on the table and purposely gave him a look I have perfected in the last four years. My cool, 'I know what I am doing' business look.

I wanted him to know that was why I was having coffee with him. No other reason. The hand-holding was an anomaly. Before, however, I could follow through and articulate the questions in my head, for I had many and wanted to put at least one to him, he leaned away from me, sat straight up against the low-backed booth, and laughed. I was startled and waited.

His voice was rich with amusement when he followed this up and said, "Ye look like ye are about to pray. Am I that frightening, lass?"

That made me narrow my eyes as I regarded him, and I gave him a half smile. "Not _frightened,_ " I answered, and I know he heard the snap in my voice. "Only praying you will tell me, quickly, what this is all about so I can get back to work."

"Is that all ye do, lass? _Work?_ "

"Pretty much." That 'scanning' I relied on, well, to use an old cliché, turned out to be 'a blessing and a curse'. It kept me from ever being able to give myself to anyone, because every single time I wanted to do just that, I found that he had ulterior motives, that he was a compulsive cheater, or something else that put me off him. Besides that _, I am a witch_. I believe in honesty in a relationship, so what was I supposed to do, say, 'Hi, _witch here_ '? That would take a whole lot of trust, and so far I hadn't found a man I could trust with that—rather depressing, considering that it meant I'd reached the age of twenty-four and had never really had any relationships whatsoever. None—nada.

I squared off, ignored my wayward thoughts, and said, "So tell me, what is it you need to discuss with me?"

A waitress of uncertain years appeared, and he ordered two coffees. I was surprised he didn't ask me if that was what I wanted. I did, but still. Then he turned to me and said, "I believe in breaking bread when I find someone I mean to have in m'life." He grinned boyishly, "Besides that, _I'm starving_. How about some eggs, Miss Doogan?"

I shook my head. "No, no, but go ahead. I'll just have the coffee."

"Please, humor my whim, Miss Doogan. Join me, do. I hate to eat alone, and it seems lately that is all I do."

I glanced at the elderly waitress, who was impatiently fiddling with her pen. I could see she wanted to get our order and move on. I hadn't eaten a thing since yesterday afternoon, and in fact the aroma in the coffee shop of bacon and onions had me suddenly famished. I caved and said, as I gave him a warmer smile than I had meant to, "Okay, thanks yes, I'll have scrambled eggs and one piece of whole-wheat toast."

He grinned and ordered the works for himself—bacon, eggs, and potatoes—and then turned back to regard me thoughtfully. His voice was soft when he said, "Ye know, lass, ye could do with a pound or two. I'm thinking ye were thin enough before ye lost yer grandmother and are way too thin now."

My eyes snapped open. "You must have looked pretty closely at my photos?"

Was this stalking? Was he a stalker? Was this stalking going on?

"Well, in truth, Maddy took every opportunity to show me yer latest pictures. She adored ye, but ye know that, don't ye?"

I sighed, and got wistful. "Yes, we were close."

"Aye, ye would send her pictures on yer computer, and she would print them up and frame 'em."

I laughed. "She was so funny about the computer. Never wanted to learn, and then one day, there it was in her kitchen." I shook my head over the memory and all the laughs I had enjoyed at poor Granny's expense while she mastered the use of a mouse.

"Did you know her well?" I asked, suddenly hungry to talk about her.

"Aye, I came to know her very well," he said gently. "Hers was a great loss to our community in Sutterville, but especially to me as I often found myself stopping by for a cup of tea and a bit of her wisdom."

"Yes, she mentioned you to me quite a bit." I chewed my bottom lip and frowned. "I am afraid I didn't pay much attention. I thought she was playing at match-making." _Oh no, did I just say that?_ Why _did I say that?_

"And ye don't wish to be matched with anyone?" he quizzed, his green eyes alive with twinkling gold lights.

Wasn't answering that. "Why did you come all this way, Mr. Dunraven?" I needed to get to the point and off this subject.

"Call me Finn, eh?" he said.

What did he want? What? For expediency I smiled and said hopefully, "Sure, Finn ...?"

"Tenacious, are we?" He inclined his head. "Right then, to the point. Ye want to know what I want."

My breath hitched. There was something in the way he said that—something ambiguous that made me want to run. Everything about him seemed ... _intense._

"That's right. Just what do you want?" I managed to squeak.

He laughed, and his sultry eyes took on a warm, suggestive glint. "A dangerous question, lass, to be asking of me. Well, then, just what do I want? I don't think ye are ready for that, Riley, not sure ye ever will be."

He said my name with that lilt of his, and it sounded like a song. _Stop, stop_ , I told myself. Okay, I'd walked into that one, but I was so not going there. Wasn't flirting with him like that. Oh no. Not.

I gave him a rueful smile and said, "I came here to find out what business you wanted to discuss." I put up my hand, took on what I call my 'teacher tone', and added, "If you mean to take this where I don't wish to go, I am so out of here. Got it, Mr. Dunraven?"

"Touché!" he said with a wide grin. "Are we back to Miss Doogan and Mr. Dunraven then? Have I slipped that far back?"

"You weren't that far forward, so not that far back," I said breathlessly. _Okay, getting back in form._

He chuckled and said, "Right then, lass. Since I don't want ye to get into the habit of saying no to me right from the start, I'll get to the point. As I mentioned, I returned to Dunraven about a year ago, though I have still had to do quite a bit of traveling as I consolidate some of m'holdings. It came to my notice that there is a stretch of land between _yer estate_ and mine that I could use beneficially for both of us. I made an offer to Maddy ... yer grandmother, and she said she would talk to ye and get back to me. Unfortunately I was away when we lost her." He shook his head. "I'm sorry for it."

He seemed sincere. He liked my grandmother, and that gave him some points. I tried to imagine the piece of land that bordered Dunraven and allowed him a warm smile. "I would hardly call our land an estate when compared to yours."

"No? Yer land encompasses over three hundred acres. I call that an estate. However, there is a narrow stretch of rowan oaks—about twenty acres of the lovely trees. I wish to buy that narrow stretch from ye."

I had to wonder at this. After all these years, what could anyone want with this acreage? I eyed him and came right to the point. "Why?" I shook my head. "Dunraven is over seven hundred acres strong. Why would you want a measly twenty acres?"

" _Ah_ , I have a personal reason for that, but allow me, lass, to say this, those twenty acres ye have more rowan oak trees than I have on all my seven hundred acres." He shook his head, and then he looked away from me before he brought his gaze back to my face. "Ye grandmother said that she was more than happy to sell this piece to me but meant first to discuss it with ye. I was hoping she did that ... before we lost her."

I frowned and remembered my last conversation with my grandmother before her stroke. She had said, "Riley, come home for a few days. I want to show you a piece of land I'm thinking of selling to Dunraven. You can use the money to open that new store you have been talking about. Maybe you could open it here ... in Sutterville, near me?"

I had been surprised and reminded her, "But, Granny ... you told me that the white and rowan oaks were planted on our land during the Salem witch trials. You said they gave us power and were a place of sanctuary. You said they were sacred."

She had answered that Dunraven was a friend and could I not please come up so she would explain the whole of it.

I had forgotten that until now, and then I remembered one more thing. Just before my grandmother died, she and her coven had held a "witches' ball" at Dunraven. I never went to coven events. It was a social thing, yes, but the witches always performed magic at the witches ball. He must have known. He must have.

_He must realize that, like my grandmother, I am a witch, from a long line of witches, as are the members of her coven_ , I thought _._

So the question that I put to myself again was, what was he? We witches can recognize one another, almost instantly. We give off a magical vibe that identifies us to each other. I did not get any such vibe off him.

Busy in my mind, I nearly jumped when he touched my folded hands on the table and brought me back to earth. He asked, "Did Maddy not mention any of this to ye? I was sure she would."

Chewing my bottom lip, I looked up and saw his gaze settle on my lips. Self-conscious about this nervous habit, I stopped immediately and answered him. "Yes, I do remember her telling me she wanted me to come up and have a look at a piece of land she was thinking of selling. I didn't think there was any rush ... you see, Betty and I have been talking about expanding the business, and I thought she was trying to help ..." He smiled and I pictured my grandmother. "She was like that." I shook my head and realized I hadn't visited my granny enough before I lost her. What had been wrong with me? I should have made more time for her. She sure had given me all her time after my parents' deaths. I felt something in my throat catch, and I had a difficult time swallowing as the words slipped out. "I should have ..." I couldn't finish, and guilt swept through me.

He reached out and held my hand. "Now, now, lass, don't be going there. Ye know yer grandmother was proud of yer success, and ye had no way of knowing time was against ye."

I looked at him sharply. Something in his tone made me feel like he knew more than he was saying. I took a long pull of air and said, "Thank you. I know she was considering selling that piece, and it surprised me at the time, as she had never agreed to sell any land before. Makes sense, because she talked about you like you were a legend amongst men."

"Did she now?" he said with that dreamy lilt.

_Coffee._ I had it to my lips as soon as the waitress set it down, and, oh, it was a great diversion and also quite good. I waited for him to sip his and said, "Well, I suppose you need an answer." I shrugged and wondered what I should do, what my grandmother would want me to do.

"Far sooner than I thought I would," he said in a voice that had suddenly dropped low and husky. His eyes flirted, his body language flirted, and he had to know the effect he had on women and undoubtedly used it to his advantage. Was he doing that now? Was he flirting with me to get his way about the land?

I wasn't going to have my head turned by his extraordinary style, by his tone of voice, by his hotness, oh, no, _not I_. My brow arched quizzically as I sat back. In control, I questioned myself. _This is not about him, his flirting, his needs. This is about my granny. What would she want? Would she want me to sell him this piece of land?_ I knew what she'd want. I knew it in my heart. She would want me to come home. She would want me to go through her things, her journal. She had always told me that if anything happened to her, I would need to read her journal. She had been adamant about that. She would want me to look out for her coven ... until they were able to reorganize. I needed to attend to my grandmother's wishes _._

What was he doing? He diverted my attention to his hand ... large, strong, yet groomed hands he had. He had reached for something in the inner pocket of his sports jacket and laid it out flat on the table. Ah, it was a survey.

I frowned but did not touch it as I studied it for a long moment. He pointed to the stretch of land between our properties, and I tried to picture it in my mind.

I had lived most of my youth in New York with my parents. When they died, Granny came and scooped me up, and off we went to her home in Maine. There I flourished until I went to college at Columbia.

I knew the three hundred acres well. I had walked over most of its beautiful terrain, but I'd done most of that walking when I was a teenager, and then off I went to college. I had never given much thought to the rowan and white oak trees at the far end. I couldn't quite picture this particular twenty acres.

I would never sell Granny's home. In addition to the trust fund my parents had set up for me, Granny had managed her money very well, and the interest from both funds were more than enough to handle the costs of keeping the family home in Sutterville.

I knew she'd wanted me to come back and settle in Sutterville, but how could I live there when my life was so centered in NYC?

Did any of those questions have anything to do with this piece of property? No, so why was I stuck in that never-never land?

Oh, damn, I just didn't know what to do.

I'd adored Granny. She had always seemed larger than life, her smile warm enough to blot out the sun. Her wisdom came from the ages and was unbreakable and untarnished. She got me through the loss of my parents and the grief that had wanted to tear me apart then.

Her death was a double-whammy, as she was my last living relative. She left me everything that she had, but after her death all I'd wanted to do was curl up into a ball. The business and the people who depended on us in that business—all the ladies that made a living at creating the beautiful hand-knit baby clothes—well, that had made me pick myself up and get back to work.

"I don't know," I said and sighed, and I heard the heaviness in my sigh. I looked at him as straightforwardly as I could and sighed again before saying, "Here is the thing. I can't answer you now. I think I have to go home first. I haven't even gone through my grandmother's things. I need to get a feel for what she would want me to do."

"I understand that, lass," he said gently.

"Yes, but you need an answer, and you deserve it. Granny would want me to give you an answer, so I guess it's time for me to pick my butt up and take it home. This puts it squarely on my shoulders. I can't put it off any longer. I see that it is something I have to do immediately," I said with the resignation I felt. "I have been planning a trip home. I left things ... unfinished. I have to go through my grandmother's documents and set everything in order at the house just the way I know she would want me to. I need to look through her things and see if she left any instructions for me. She might have made a decision and wrote what it was in her journal."

"Ay then, she had a journal?" he said curiously.

Why did I get the feeling this worried him? I smiled and said, "Yes, she kept a journal, though I doubt anyone other than I would be able to read it. We had a language of our own."

He grinned. "Did ye, lass? How curious. Why is that?"

I shrugged. "I'm not sure, but Granny thought it would be fun ... right after I came to live with her. It was hard for me without my parents, and I think she set me to learn this special language as a distraction." I closed my eyes for a moment, fought back tears, and finally said, "She always knew how to help me."

He squeezed my hand, and I gave him a polite smile, but the truth was, I felt anything but polite. His touch, his sincere show of sympathy, everything about him, did things to my central nervous system—things that made me think of what it might be like to be in his arms. _What the hell?_ Where did that come from?

The waitress brought our plates of food, and he said before he dug right in, "Ay then, if ye have a mind to come up to yer home, I can save ye the drive. Ye can fly back with me tomorrow."

I arched a brow at him and shook my head, "Uh, no thanks. That is very kind, but I would like to have my own wheels when I get up there, and I honestly don't mind the drive. It will let me unwind."

He frowned and looked like he was going to object but thought better of it. He bit into a slice of toast instead.

Okay. So just like that, I made up my mind. I would take the rest of August off and head on up to Maine.

~ Two ~

THE DAY WAS a beauty. Sunny, warm, and once I was past the city traffic into Connecticut the drive was easy and smooth on the I-95.

I had the sign for the Kennebunkport exit in my sights. Although I had been driving for hours I wasn't weary. I'd performed a 'witchy' trick and was partially on automatic pilot, letting magic take control of the wheel, because I needed to concentrate on other matters.

So many other matters, and at the top of that list was Finn Dunraven. He was so in my head that I was freaked out over it. His green eyes. His playful smile. His so handsome face. During my days at Columbia I had become street-wise, and I knew better than to fall for a killer smile and a too attractive man. But, hey, he wasn't just 'too attractive'. He was downright, smokin' hot, and besides that, I'd realized after watching him leave that I had been drawn to him in ways I had not thought I was capable of experiencing.

All my thoughts—well, nearly all—had been centered on him. His face was right there in my mind's view. His voice, dreamy and soft, was in my ear whispering things that made me tingle as I did the daydreaming thing. His name conjured up visions of primal passion. _Whoa_.

The mystery that surrounded him—and that was the one single vibe that I did get from him: _m_ _ysterious_ —that one thing hung around his head like a dark halo.

Something about him didn't add up. I like things to add up. I am all about two and two equaling four. Algebra eludes me, but two and two I get. When two and two add up to five, I get worried about the universe, _my universe._

By the time we'd parted company the day before, I felt as though we had always known one another, and yet, how could that be? It couldn't. It was just me, being silly.

Also, I was really quite intimidated by him. Not because of his looks but because of everything about him that didn't add up. I couldn't figure him out, and because I was so drawn to him, that worried me.

I am naturally shy with strangers, and he was an unknown—a stranger.

_Reason number one, right there_ , I told myself. _He is a stranger, so why should I believe anything he says?_ As you can see, I have trust issues.

Another reason was my damn hormones seemed to spell out his name and imprint them in my head. Biggy there. I don't like to be led around by my hormones. They are never right. Experience and my scanning ability had shown me that hormones will get you laid but not much else. I had never had a man, but I wanted to. _One of these days I am going to just give in to the craving and say to hell with the consequences ... maybe with Finn Dunraven?_

_Or maybe not_ , my saner self responded, _because maybe he will be my Waterloo_. I couldn't scan him, and that meant he could hurt me big time. Real big time.

Another thing that had me off balance, totally staggering, was the way he said my name. When he spoke my name, it was as though he rolled it around his tongue and tasted it. It was sensual and seductive, and it drove me wild. I didn't know myself when I was in his company. He turned my brain into mush and my body into a needy wannabe submissive. Oh yeah, that naughty girl who wanted out of her cage also wanted to stretch across a bed for him and ask no questions.

I thought about the way he had walked me back to my shop after our coffee date, for it had felt more like a first date than a business meeting. That 'old world' snuck into his eyes and his behavior. He was gentlemanly in a traditional style, and I found I liked it. I liked it a great deal.

Outside the shop, he bent and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, and when he said my name, there it was, a soft caress. "Ri- _Lea_." His voice was mind-stopping. "I hope to see ye then in Sutterville very soon."

With an inclination of his head, he turned and put up his hand. A limousine I had not noticed waiting down the block pulled out and started to roll towards us. It came to a complete stop, and the driver jumped out and hurried around to open the door for him. I heard him direct the driver to the airport, and then he jumped in. Just before the limo pulled away, our eyes met again.

_This is madness_ , I told myself.

This ... this was just me, a woman who was obviously ready for a toss in the sack, picking a fine specimen of a man to hit the sheets with. This was me wanting him because he was just so damned hot. This was me saying, _You are twenty-four, and it's time to let go and have a little fun. What could it hurt?_

It could hurt. I tend to get attached. I lost my dog when I was seventeen to old age and was never able to get another.

My inner witch yelled at me and said, _You are a grown woman_! _Oh, yeah_ , said that inner witch, _grown and ready. Go and get ya sum._

All through the night I gave the mystery that was Finn Dunraven a great deal of thought, but all I got as an answer was a puzzle I couldn't solve—and of course a frustrated body.

Everything about him presented itself as enigmatic.

And number four on the list of Dunraven was that when he walked me back to the store, he didn't attempt to touch me or take my hand. I'd thought he would, but he didn't, and I was very disappointed. He didn't hit on me either, which really shocked me—again, thought he would. I had, you see, decided that he was a player, the sort that has a beautiful but different model on his arm everywhere he goes. Perhaps I didn't meet his standards?

I am used to dodging Don Juan types and their like. I am not model material. I'm only 5'5", and while I have been told by guys looking to score that I am beautiful, I know I am not sophisticated enough for a man like Dunraven.

Even so, I thought he would try something. He didn't. _Was I disappointed_? Did I want him to hit on me? I didn't know, or did I? I _did_ know I felt slightly deflated when I watched him drive away.

Part of the problem was that I couldn't read him. I wished I could read him. Humans have to depend on their instincts, their smarts, their hopes, but usually I have more going for me. Not with him.

Only one thing left to do, and it had kept me up most of the night. Why? Because it seemed anything Dunraven had my mind all jumbled. I listed the things I did know about him. Granny seemed to like him. That was number one. Number two, he had hosted a ball at his home for my granny's coven—my granny's coven, for goodness sake. He couldn't have done that and not known what they were, so he knew about the witches of Sutterville!

What was I dealing with here— _a warlock_? And if so, why couldn't I get a vibe off him? I haven't bumped into too many warlocks in my life other than my dad, but I have known a few, and they give off a very definite pulse.

I was getting nowhere fast with this, so I turned up the volume on the radio. I didn't want to think about the mysterious Dunraven anymore.

I had reservations at a really lovely-looking bed and breakfast in Kennebunkport, and as I turned off the exit I realized I was thoroughly ready for a glass of wine. First, though, I needed to stretch my legs.

I would check in, get settled, and go for a long walk by the water. For the first time in a long time, I was happy to be away from the store.

I pulled into the parking lot of Captain Jed's Inn & B & B and was thrilled as I looked around at the inn. Yay for Trip Advisor. The main house was Victorian in style and overlooked the ocean. _Perfect._

Checking in was quick and easy.

My room was huge and sported a four-poster bed. The walls were a light shade of cream, and the entire atmosphere was inviting. I slid off my heeled sandals and dug out my sneakers from my overnight bag.

I quickly brushed my hair but left it hanging loose and long. The day seemed cool, but August in Maine often was, so I shrugged my denim jacket on over my white tank top and headed for the main staircase.

Oh, but the salty breeze was a total and welcome delight at my face as I started briskly off and took the road along the water. The gulls screeched delightfully, and I stopped to watch them a moment in flight. Beautiful. The waves gently crashed against the rocky shoreline, and I was in heaven.

I could have made the drive to Sutterville in one day, but it would have meant another two hours on the road. I sucked in the salt air and enjoyed the view, really pleased with the decision I had made to book a room and stop for the night.

As I walked briskly, taking the bend in the road, a huge yellow lab came rambling towards me. It bounded for me, making a direct line, joy all over its adorable face. It was as though we were old friends suddenly reunited.

I laughed right out loud as he nearly toppled me over, and I patted him before telling him, "Off now ... _off_."

His owner reprimanded him, and I stopped short, completely stunned and speechless once again. _What the hell is he doing here, and why, why does this man turn my brain into mush?_

His voice, deep and masculine, sent shivers through me, and all I could do was stand and stare.

"Hello, Riley," he said.

Here is the odd thing. All day, I'd had this 'feeling', I suppose because I am a witch, and I do get them—feelings, that is. At any rate, I'd had one. I couldn't put my finger on what it meant, but _now I knew_.

Even so, it was difficult to comprehend. I don't believe in coincidences. Trust issues have made me leery and cynical. His showing up here ... oh no, not a coincidence.

" _What_ ... what are _you_ doing here?" I didn't give him the chance to answer but hurried on, fist on hip before I could stop myself, "And don't try and tell me you just happened to be in Kennebunkport."

"I wasn't going to tell ye any such thing. I'm here by design, lass. Fred and I drove down early this morning. He likes to travel, Fred does," Finn Dunraven said as though he were just passing the time of day. His eyes, though, oh, his eyes hinted at something else as he looked me over, and I felt the blush burn my cheeks.

I couldn't look away and noted the little white-hot flames burning in the recesses of those green pools. It was hypnotic, looking into them, so though it took everything I had, I lowered my gaze. Not low enough, however, for now I was staring at his luscious lips. _Whoa_ , that was just as dangerous. _Taste them_ , my inner witch begged. _Right now, take control, reach up, bend his head to you, and taste them._

I shut her down. _Stop,_ I told myself and decided to study the churning waves hitting the rocky shoreline. I cleared my throat, hoping he hadn't noticed anything, and tried to make my voice sound calm and normal while I avoided meeting his gaze. "Right, so how did you and Fred know I would be here?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shrug. His voice a soft caress, he said, "I called and spoke with your partner, Betty. I told her my plan, and she thought it was a grand idea ... me coming here to meet ye."

I turned sharply at that. "Oh, _did she_? A grand idea? And you, you think stalking a woman a grand idea?" I made a mental note to call her out on this. For all she knew he could be a serial killer!

"Stalking is it?" He laughed. "Aye, I suppose it is, but if ye send me on my way, I'll leave it at that. Does that make ye more comfortable, Miss Doogan?"

I was off my game when it came to this man. I am not what my granny used to call _in my first blush,_ and I know how to deter a man on the prowl. Yet, here I stood chewing my bottom lip, unsure what to say or do. "I am not sure what I want to do about this," I answered. I couldn't help giving him a sweeping look. I purposely arched my brow forbiddingly, but, damn, there he stood, all twinkling green eyes and quirky, hopeful smile.

"Aye, but I can see ye mean to chew out yer partner over this." He cocked his head. "Not her fault. I can be very persuasive."

He stood there all virile and confident, and why wouldn't he be? He was virile and confident. Here was a successful hunk of a man who was obviously used to getting his way. In his white T-shirt and tight jeans, he looked younger than the twenty-eight, twenty-nine years I supposed him to be. He was so tall—even in sneakers. There was a casual grace about him, and hell, but he looked like a god of sex emitting a siren's call, and damn, but my body was reacting to everything he was sending out. "Oh, right. I shouldn't be upset that she gave my whereabouts to a virtual stranger?" I assuaged the words with a comical eye.

He chuckled and said, "Not her fault. I mentioned that I was good friends with your grandmother and that you might need a shoulder to lean on when you returned to Sutterville. I told her I just wanted to ease the process for you, and I used all the charm at my disposal."

I shook my head at him because his words hit home. Had he known they would? I purposely gave him a suspicious eye as I thought this over. Was he a witch? Perhaps I couldn't detect the magic in him for a reason. He could be powerful enough to shield his magic. My grandmother had told me that the most powerful sorcerers could do that. So, if he was magical, had he used his power on Betty?

He laughed again and put up his hands, "No, no, acquit me—not that kind of charm."

Did he just read my mind? What the hell? Okay, what do I say to this new development? What did he mean, 'not that kind of charm'?

I studied him and arched a brow. "What? Are you a mind reader, as well as a stalker?"

I gave him an obvious once over and added acidly, "I thought better of you."

"Oh-ho, the lass has a sharp tongue. Well, ye thought better of me, eh? Well, well, did ye now?"

His response surprised me, and as he didn't elaborate or even try to excuse himself I prompted him. "Well?"

"Well, what, lass?"

"Mind reader and stalker?"

"Neither one, lass. Your eyes are easily read, though, and stalking ... well, that is a strong word."

"The truth is I thought you were more decent than that—"

He cut me off, and I saw something hot and bright in his eyes as he said, "Did ye now? Thought me a decent sort. I'm glad I am to hear it, but I suppose in a manner of speaking, lass, I am stalking ye."

His admission shocked me into silence. I reminded myself that he was intent on buying that stretch of land; perhaps he had decided he should pursue me in hopes of 'buttering me up'. I wondered what I should say or do next. He had taken control from the moment Fred had come bounding up to me—Fred, who was still nuzzling me as I absently massaged his adorable head. Yup, so far, although I had tried to take control, Mr. Finn Dunraven had not yielded even a tiny bit of control to me. He had it all in his hands, and I wasn't sure I was up to the task of taking it away from him.

_Question him_ , my brain came to life and suggested. _Take control with questions._ So I asked—no, it was more of a hands-on-hips demand when I said, "Okay, why?"

"Why do ye think, Riley?"

When he said my name like that, it felt as though he had caressed it, and it was tantalizingly disarming. Here was a point I couldn't deny: my frigging name on his tongue always turned up the heat in my blood.

My defense? I put up my chin and answered as sardonically as I could, "I'll take a wild guess and say you want to sweep me off my feet and get me to say I'll sell you the land you are after."

He laughed, but it was tinged with irritation, and he told me quietly, "Ye might think that because ye don't know me." He shook his head, and his eyes poured into mine as he dropped the sound of his voice so I had to move in closer to hear him as he said, "Ye should know better. I'm here for another reason altogether—do ye not sense it, lass?"

It was difficult to concentrate on anything but the way he looked with the wind whipping his black hair around his handsome face. I had to stay strong. This man would break me if I let him, and I wasn't about to let him. "You came to New York to see me for _one reason_ —to buy my granny's land. Why should I think anything has changed?"

"Because, lass, while that was the reason I went to New York—to meet ye and make an offer for the land I am interested in—something happened, and it became more than that. Ye know it, don't ye?"

Suddenly I couldn't deny the sexual tension between us. It was as close to a living entity as it could get. It was primal and edgy. I was super-charged by this something that radiated, erotically feral, sweeping into me from him and keeping the air charged. Forcefully it wound its way around me and pulled me closer to him, or ... wait, was that he who had moved closer to me? _I couldn't tell._ I was lost in this new, electrified atmosphere as my hormones yelled out his name with a force that emptied my head of anything else.

_What the hell?_ This wasn't me. I don't swoon for a man. I don't fall into a man's arms simply because he is devastatingly beautiful to look at and listen to. Yet, there I stood as his hand found my waist. Instead of slapping his fingers off me, I allowed him to draw me up against his hard body. I allowed myself to take in the scent, the musky pine and vanilla scent of his probably expensive cologne ... or was that him, all him?

_I heard panting_. Was that Fred at my side? No. Hell— _it was me._

"Riley, I have so much to tell ye," he whispered on a husky note, "but I think first we need to get to know one another."

I mentally slapped myself and pulled sharply out of his hold. "Okay, I'm up for that, because right now, we really are strangers."

"Are ye, lass? Are ye up for knowing me?" He frowned. "I need to warn ye right from the start, I won't be what ye are expecting. Ye have no idea what lies ahead, and, Riley, there is no going back. Do ye ken?"

His face had abruptly taken on a grim expression, and I puzzled over my inner questions, all of them bumping into one another at once. What was he talking about?

"Why don't you tell me then?" Seemed logical to me to say that. "What is it I won't expect? Tell me and put it to rest." This man was too much for me. The mystery surrounding him was too much. I led a quiet, easy life. I was master of my destiny. I was proud of my accomplishments, all of which had come with hard work— _not magic_. I had been lucky enough to have a trust fund and was able to gain a bank loan to match Betty's investment when we put the store together, but hard work had made it a success and hard work had paid off that loan so that I didn't have to use my parents' trust fund. I was a sure and steady kind of woman. Surely he must see that?

He frowned darkly as he studied my face, and I could almost hear his thoughts. I knew he was wondering if I could handle what he wanted to tell me. _Damn, what is it?_

He said, "I thought we could talk and get to know one another a bit more over dinner." His tone had been light, easy before; now he sounded ... deadly serious.

"Ah ... I ..." All I had wanted earlier was to settle down with a glass of wine and even a little TV. Now, all I wanted was to be with him. _Like what_ _?_

Suddenly his mood changed, and he was light and casual again. "Dinner, lass? I promise to behave."

He had just hunted me down as though it was the most natural thing to do, and now he was asking me to dinner. He had hinted at things I didn't want to understand.

_I should run for the hills and never look back._ I eyed him quizzically and said, only a half tease in my tone, "Oh, I see, so you want to romance me, fill me with wine, and then get me to sign over my land." It was what I thought at bottom. I couldn't scan him, so I had no way to know for sure his purpose, but, wow, was getting that piece of acreage so important?

He moved in on me and held my gaze with those dark green eyes as his voice embraced me. "I need ye to understand that I came here to meet ye not because I wanted to make an offer on yer land—at least _not_ tonight. I simply wanted to see ye again. It was wrong of me to give in to m'inclination, because I'm not for ye, I am so not for ye."

My eyes widened at that, but he continued before I could say anything. "Oh, that isn't to say I don't want ye with every beat of m'red blood. I do, but, Riley lass, ye deserve better than I. I don't want to turn yer head with chocolates and flowers. I don't want to take yer heart—yer body, aye, but not yer heart because ... well, there are reasons. Even so, I can't seem to stop m'self."

He looked away for a second but then locked his gaze with mine again. "So I tell ye true, I want ye, lass ... but first, I need to show ye who I am. Ye need to have yer eyes wide open and be free to run if that is yer will. Tonight, I don't want to talk business or the like. So, keeping all that in mind, I'm asking ye, Riley Doogan, would ye have dinner with me and Fred this evening?"

His words sank in immediately and melded with my subconscious. I knew he was dangerous, and yet I was drawn to him. Was it time for me to just have some fun and not worry about the future consequences?

Fred nudged me, and I smiled, as I had already fallen in love with the golden lab. Finn's honesty had made me lay down my weapons and surrender. I was won over. I couldn't say no and, at that moment, didn't want to say no. I reminded myself that my grandmother had liked him, and she had always been my guide in the past. "Well, I usually don't get that kind of a speech when a man asks me to dinner, so, sure, sounds good." I petted Fred's head and added, "But I don't think they will let Fred, here, into the inn's fancy restaurant, do you?" I had just assumed he was staying at the inn and that we would have dinner there.

"No," he said on a chuckle, "they wouldn't, but I am not staying at the inn, ye see. I took one of their cottages on the hill, overlooking the ocean. It's just for the evening, and I made arrangements for dinner to be delivered there at seven ... _if_ that suits ye, lass."

He'd made arrangements?

I said while giving him a skeptical look, "Took it for granted, huh?"

"No, arrangements can always be altered or cancelled. Does seven suit ye?"

I accepted his explanation. I don't know why I found myself wanting to trust him. He had already told me I deserved better. Did he think so poorly of himself, or was he warning me that he was a playboy who didn't want to settle down?

At any rate, seven was only two hours away. There was a woman, a sex-craved, hot woman in my head clapping gleefully and repeating over and over, _Dinner at seven with the hunk_. She made me reply softly, "Sure, dinner at seven. Where exactly should I ..."

"I'm old-fashioned. I'll come for ye at six, and we can enjoy a glass of wine, talk, and look at the ocean before dining," he answered. He had this aura of control not only over himself but extending outward, taking everything and everyone in its path. He was a dominant alpha male. We might buck heads, because I was a dominant alpha female. Well, well, this would be interesting, if only I could make my body not betray my will. What was I getting into?

So there I was, a strong and independent woman, and all I could choke out was, "Okay."

He inclined his head, called to Fred, and turned to walk off.

I watched his retreating back—oh, what a back—and that _devil-woman_ in my head jumped up and down as she told me, _Ah, girlfriend, maybe tonight we'll get laid_.

_Oh, no, not I, no way._ Still ... maybe it was time.

_You can't read him_ , my 'sure and steady' told me.

_Don't have to_ , I answered. _He has already told me, in his way, not to get hooked on him, hasn't he?_

~ Three ~

I RAN MY HAND over my little white eyelet dress and smoothed out imaginary wrinkles. I was undecided. I wanted to wear something sexy, but not so sexy that he might get the wrong idea, but ...

There I was, staring at my too-thin reflection in the mirror. Still, my breasts are full, and the scooped bodice showed that to advantage. The lines of the little dress hugged my rump as I moved around to get a good view in the mirror.

Okay, what was I doing? Did I want to jump into bed with this man? He was a virtual stranger. Just what was I doing?

I chewed my upper lip over the problem and surveyed myself again. I pulled my waist-length black hair over my shoulders and over my naked cleavage, thinking to obscure the view. Should I change into something else?

A knock at my door put an end to that idea, and I almost twisted my ankle as I turned too fast. I wanted to say 'coming', but the word stuck in my throat, so I opted for simply going to the door of my little suite and pulling it open.

Green smoldering eyes looked me over with deliberate slowness, but that was okay, because I was doing the same to him. He wore a gray silk, short-sleeved shirt, and it showed off his muscles. _Oh my._ I noticed his tattoo. It wrapped around his bicep. I swallowed as I looked down his six-pack that was obvious beneath the clinging silk of his shirt. My gaze traveled further to the black silk pants he wore. Hot damn—my glance took in more than it should. I snapped my eyes back to his face and saw that he looked ... _entertained._

"Ready?" he asked, while in old-world style he offered me his arm.

"Ready," I managed, but when I put my hand on his arm shockwaves of sensations bombarded me, and I couldn't take a step. Not one step. What was going on here?

His voice was husky. "Are ye hungry, Riley lass?"

"Hungry ... yes." Oh, sure, look at me dazzling him with my brilliant conversation.

He laughed and said, "Good, because I mean ... to feed ye as much as I can. Yer granny wouldn't like to see ye wasting away like ye are."

It was true, my grandmother had always wanted to put weight on me, but how would he know that? Had they talked that much about me? Or had it just been a random thing she had thrown out during one of their conversations? I eyed him. "Now how could you possibly know that?"

"It stands to reason, doesn't it? Grandmothers always want to feed their loved ones, but I recall looking at one of the pictures ye sent and her mentioning to me that ye forget to eat when ye work and that ye work all the time."

Grandmothers? I wondered if he had one alive and well.

I smiled broadly because I could picture her, hear her, and then I sobered. "So, how do you like life in little Sutterville?"

"I like it just fine," he answered and offered nothing else.

"It probably can't compare to some of the places you have lived in Europe ...?" I prodded. Everyone had always wondered where Dunraven's owner was off to. I know I had never heard of him visiting his estate while I was growing up.

He eyed me. "Nothing in this world quite compares to m'home in Ireland, except that is, Sutterville."

Ireland. I sighed. So he had a home in Ireland. It was my goal to go there one day. However, something in the way he spoke made me sure he was holding back. We reached the front porch of the inn, and I saw sitting there a Gullwing Roadster Mercedes. Oh yeah. I like cars, and I so liked this model.

I am not impressed by money. I grew up comfortably, not wanting for anything, and with Granny telling me, "Man makes money—money doesn't make a man." I smiled because I could almost hear her in my head.

He led me to the passenger side, opened its door, and saw me situated. I said without thinking, "Love this car."

"Aye, it gives a smooth ride," he answered on a boyish grin and hurried around. We could have walked to his leased cottage. It was only a few blocks away. It sat balanced on a rocky hillside with a breathtaking view of the rocky shoreline.

He pulled up and parked, and Fred came bursting off the wrap-around porch and trotting over. Finn got out, patted him, and opened the door to help me out. Once I planted my feet on the ground, he pulled me into him, and our gazes locked.

Heat traveled through me, up my spine, into my head, and out my flared nostrils, destroying my ability to breathe.

"Come," he said softly, and his eyes twinkled as he dropped my hand and touched my elbow.

I bent and vigorously patted Fred's head and body while I silently collected myself. I was in trouble, real trouble. I wanted him. That was a truth I had to face. I wanted him to bed me. Could I handle it? He was not going to be my 'one and only'. That dream would die the moment I let him take me to bed ... wait, 'let him'? It was more like I just might throw him on the bed and have my way with him.

So, could I handle a one-night sort of thing?

I didn't know. I scarcely noticed anything until he saw me seated in the screened-in porch on a comfortable love seat.

He moved with self-assurance and even grace for such a big, muscular man. I watched him move with masculine grace as he poured me a glass of white wine. He was meticulous, and I could see that he probably strived for perfection. The thought nearly made me snort, as I am anything but a perfectionist. I am always breaking rules in my search for easy, simple, fair, and just. Who was this man?

I hurriedly took a long sip of wine in an attempt to calm my frazzled nerves and noticed that he had turned his attention on me. "What?" I asked and gave him a warm smile.

My sure and steady Riley in my head said, _Why don't you just spread your legs for him and get it over with?_

My inner witch answered her, _Good idea._

I was stuck between those two voices.

"Do I intimidate you, Riley?"

"Intimidate me? No ..." I started and then sighed. "Yes ... oh, I don't know. You are a variable. You have walked into my life and kind of turned me upside down."

"How have I done that, Miss Doogan?" he teased.

I couldn't get a read off him. I didn't know what he was. I didn't know his intentions, and I should have. I had been taught to use my powers, and that meant I would automatically know when I was in the presence of magic. Witches have an old saying: _Witches and warlocks without any bother, like gypsies, on meeting will know one another._ If he was a warlock, why didn't I know it?

I swooshed it away and gave him an open look. "Well, Finn Dunraven, I am not sure what this—what you are all about. Out of the blue, you sweep in and present me with a proposition I have to examine. I take things slow and easy. I don't rush in, but here I am, with you, and it feels like I am rushing into something ... weird." I eyed him. "So, yes, in a manner of speaking, I suppose you do intimidate me—turn my well-ordered daily routine upside down. Does that answer you, Finn Dunraven?"

He didn't answer. Instead he sipped his wine and said, "There isn't any great deal of time left to us. I haven't the luxury of choice. What needs to be done, needs doing now."

This exasperated me. "You see, there it is—shaky ground. Why not just spit it out? What the heck is this really all about?"

His smile was fleeting. He sat in close to me, and his brows drew together when he leaned in and said, "I mean to tell ye, but while time for me at the moment is of the essence, lass, ye need to hear what I have to tell ye ... in slow degrees." His finger feathered my bottom lip, and I didn't slap his hand away. I felt the air in my lungs catch. "Riley ... ye are so damn beautiful. Ye take my breath away every single time I look at ye ... and, och aye, Riley, there are so many reasons why ye should pick yerself up and ask me to take ye back to the inn."

I snorted. "Okay, you have warned me off now enough for me to think that maybe that is what I should do—run for the hills. The problem is, I don't want to."

He took my glass, set it down with his, and whispered, "Good, because, lass, I don't want you to either."

He had me in his arms, and I put my hands to his shoulders as he bent his head and his mouth covered mine. He was delicious. That was all I could think while our tongues locked and his hand took my hip.

His voice was in my ear almost immediately after he broke away from a kiss I wanted to go on forever. He whispered hoarsely, as though it had taken great effort to pull out of our kiss, "Ye precious lass, ye are exquisite ... do ye know ye are all I have been thinking about since the moment we met?"

I pulled him back for another kiss, but he disengaged and got up from me. "Have some more wine, Riley Doogan."

Robotically I did as he asked and downed my glass. He laughed and said, "Easy there, sweetheart."

I couldn't speak. I felt a fool. I had caved after just one kiss. No, not just caved. I had looked for more, and he had pulled away. _What do I do now?_ I asked, but the voices that had been so full of suggestions earlier had nothing to say.

He frowned. "Och, Riley, I am swept away by yer beauty ... do ye know how ravishing ye are?"

I shook my head and was reminded of Granny, who had often told me that I had the kind of beauty that would cause men to trip over themselves in an attempt to get to me. She said she saw what I obviously never did. I never thought about it much until now, _until him_. I felt the heat in my cheeks and made an attempt to side-step and regain my composure. I held out my glass for more wine and cleared my throat to answer him off-handedly as best I could, "Hmm, talking about looks, why Mr. Dunraven, you must know that you are adequately equipped in that department." _There, two can play that game._

He laughed. "Good block."

He didn't pour me more wine. Instead, and so abruptly that I didn't see it coming he was near, and reaching. He held my hands as he brought me to my feet and deftly pressed me into his embrace.

His mouth covered mine, demanding, giving, taking with that skilled velvet tongue of his, and I was lost. His teeth grazed and nibbled at my bottom lip for a moment, and then his tongue dove back inside for mine once more.

I was transported into a world of sensation. Red-hot blood singed my nerve-endings and left them throbbing, wanting, needing. I was aware, even through the haze of pleasure he had aroused, that his huge shaft was pressed against my belly, and even through his silky pants and my dress, I was certain he had no underwear on.

His hands were on my butt, pulling me in as he rocked against me, and I knew what he wanted. It was what I wanted. Everything else was blotted out. It was like coming in from the dark, looking into a brightly lit room, and not being able to see, but you could feel ... and I felt every skilled movement of his fingers. It was as though I were falling ...

It was as though he caught me, kept me, and teased me into the safe zone. _Wait! What, am I nuts? This isn't safe—this is the danger zone, and I am way too far inside to get out._

I discovered that I had no resistance to him and was angry with myself when he pulled away again. How was it he could resist me when I was throwing myself at him?

He whispered, "I have been wanting to kiss ye, Riley, from the moment I laid eyes on ye. Forgive me, lass ... I didn't mean to let go like that."

What did I want? I wanted him to make love to me, but he was giving me a way out. Fear of the unknown woke me up, and I stepped away. _Remember, Riley_ , I told myself. _He wants to buy your land. Maybe he isn't above seducing you into saying yes, you will sell. Maybe he doesn't even want you?_

"Right, sure you did," I answered, not looking at him.

He touched my chin and said, "Riley, what are ye thinking?"

"Guess?" I said and took the bottle of wine and poured some into my glass.

He shook his head and offered, "Aye, I know, but here is the thing, lass. Ye aren't ready. Ye think ye are, but I can see ye aren't, and I will nae take advantage of ye." He raised a brow and gave me a smirk. "So have yer wine, because dinner will soon be on the table."

He kept surprising me. Who was this man? What did he want from me? One minute he was kissing me and the next pushing me away.

He seemed determined to keep his distance after that, which I thought would be awkward but wasn't.

He was a brilliant conversationalist and kept me involved in a steady stream of small talk about the Yankees, about music, about my favorite TV shows, and then out of nowhere he said, "Yer granny said ye and yer partner were looking to expand yer business. Are ye still?"

I was surprised by the question. I was beginning to understand that Granny must have liked him even more than I realized. She had always been closemouthed about family matters. "Yes." The subject made me bite my bottom lip. "She wanted me to open a shop up in Sutterville, or even Kennebunkport, to be nearer to her."

"And?"

I laughed. He was easy, so easy to talk to when he smiled like that. "And, Betty and I did talk about it. She would run the city store, and I could run a sister shop in Sutterville ... maybe expand to Kennebunkport in the future. We get a lot of tourists in Sutterville, not only because of the lovely harbor and fishing, but because of the 'witchy' rumors, but you know about that, don't you?" I eyed him. _Okay, dodge that one._

"Aye, I know about that. Sutterville is to Maine what Salem is to Massachusetts," he said, and his green eyes were alight with amusement. "I've noticed."

"So," I said, changing the subject, "where in Ireland is your ancestral home?" Curiosity had made me bold.

"Near Killarney Lakes. A great big rambling place." He eyed me thoughtfully. "I have a few other homes as well though, but the last few years saw me in Ireland." He hesitated, and I frowned as I waited.

He sighed and added, "Well, then, ye must know that Maddy and I met in Ireland some years ago when ye were off to New York and she and her friends took a little ... vacation together?"

I knew about the coven's trip to Ireland. I did not know my grandmother met Finn Dunraven at that time. I was shocked. I shook my head. "No, she never said a word."

"Well, it was but a brief acquaintanceship, after all," he answered off-handedly.

"I wonder why she didn't mention it?" I asked myself more than him. "She sure talked enough about you, that's for sure."

He shrugged. "I'm sure it slipped her mind. As it happened I was in a position to lend her assistance when she became separated from her ... friends."

_Her friends_ , meaning her coven. He had been careful to avoid saying coven. Why? Didn't he think I knew he knew? "I see," I answered as a sudden thought came to me. "So, did you move back to Sutterville because of something my granny told you?" I was suddenly sure that she was behind his return to Sutterville. My witch senses were on the alert.

"Ye could say aye, I did, but that wasn't the only reason." He shrugged. "She was most persuasive last year when she called. Told me that it was time I returned and stepped into my ... er legacy, my home and attended to matters that needed ... attention." He smiled sadly.  
"She was wise beyond her ken."

What wasn't he telling me? What was all the mystery? I wasn't letting him off the hook so easily. I tried the back door with, "Your legacy? How would Granny know what you needed to attend to?"

He had moved to the kitchen, and I watched as he took the food out of the oven where it had been keeping warm and placed it on the table. He held a seat for me, saw me comfortable, and then took one right beside me. His nearness was distracting. How would I swallow anything with him so close?

He said, "Oysters are a wonderful appetizer ... do you like them?"

I nodded a yes, and he said softly, "Good, then start eating, and I will tell ye more."

I immediately allowed the oyster to make its salty way down my throat. I saw him watching out of the corner of my eye, and his look was full of desire. I saw his nostrils flare and heard him catch his breath. I never realized a man could be turned on by watching a woman swallow oysters.

I said on a low voice, "Do you have ulterior motives, feeding me oysters? I have heard they are an aphrodisiac ..."

"I don't know about that, but I do know, watching ye ... er ... swallow them has me hotter than I thought possible. We had better move on to the lobster tails."

Sitting beside him, eating in his company, talking so easily, I suddenly felt as though we had known each other a very long time. How was that possible? How could that be possible when I was on edge because of him, intimidated by his sexual aura, and hungry for him to make a move on me?

He had me talking non-stop about the business I love, how I found all these women who could knit and needed the extra money. I told him how Betty and I had managed to put it all together and how much pleasure it gave us. "I love it," I told him. "The clothing is expensive, but they are beautifully made. We can't keep up with the demand, and it is a good feeling all the way around." I felt a blush steal into my cheeks. What had made me go on and on like that?

"Work, Riley? Is that all ye do? Have ye no man in yer life?"

I eyed him skeptically. "If you were friendly with my granny, she must have told you that I don't. It was her only complaint when it came to me ... well that, and that she wanted me to put on some weight." I laughed. Music had been quietly playing in the background and all at once, a Bruce Springsteen oldie came on, "The Fever". He got up from the table, took my hand, and led me into a slow dance that made it difficult for me to breathe. Our bodies pressed up against one another, and there it was, evidence of his desire as his hard, pulsing cock pressed against me!

I stopped and stood staring up at him.

He had said I wasn't ready, and here it was, the truth. I wasn't. I just wasn't ready for any of this. I was scared to death of connecting with him because I knew I was already in over my head, which meant my heart was being drawn willy-nilly towards his.

How could this be? I just didn't know him. He was unreadable, unattainable, and I wasn't going to let the food, the music, the wine, the view, and his hotness make me do what I wasn't ready to do, and, besides, he didn't want to. He had put a stop to it right off, so this was a good place to put an end to the evening.

"I better get back," I said and stepped away.

"Ye better?" he questioned. "Better for who, Riley?"

" _For me_ , better for me. Didn't you advise me to do just that?" I answered honestly. "Besides, I have to get up early and scoot up to Sutterville. Need some sleep." The wine. I had too much wine in me. Three glasses. I don't do three glasses. The room was spinning.

He held me steady. "There, lass, right ye are. I'll take ye back to yer inn, but first ..." He had my chin up, and before I knew it—or did I know he was going to kiss me again? _Yes_. I more than knew. I think my body language begged him for that kiss.

His mouth crushed mine this time, as though the kiss were yanked out of him. His tongue dove recklessly and without hesitation, found mine willing and ready, and made love to it with a skill I had never encountered before. His hand was on my breast, holding, massaging, titillating my nipple through my dress. His fingers found my protruding nipple and gently teased me further, and my thighs clenched against him.

I was hot and wanting, and his hard cock against my belly was killing me, making me lose all better judgments. I knew this was it. If I didn't stop him now, I was going to lie down on the floor and beg him to take me. I put up my hand and pushed on his chest, and he immediately released me. " _Home_ ... inn ... now," I said.

He inclined his head. "As m'lady wishes."

He took my hand and led me to the car. I patted Fred, who had followed us outdoors, and then again as he snuggled my side.

He bent to Fred and said gently, "Get up to the porch and _stay_."

Fred padded his way up to the front porch, plopped down, crossed his front paws, and plopped his head down on them. He looked so comical that I couldn't help but laugh.

We listened to music on the way back to the inn, which was good because I couldn't think, let alone talk. When we got there, he hastily made his way around the roadster and opened the door for me. Then he walked me into the lobby, where I offered my hand. I didn't trust myself to allow him to walk me to my suite.

He grinned, slid his arms around me, and whispered, "Aye, now, yer hand is lovely, and I mean to hold it often, but now, lass, it's kissing ye goodnight I mean to do."

And right there in the lobby that is precisely what he did. I am not talking a good-night-in-public, little kiss. I am talking full-on, full-length, and taking-my-breath-away kiss.

I couldn't move afterwards and stood there watching his retreating form.

_What have you done?_ I asked the wicked girl gleefully shouting _Yes_ in my head. Being in his arms, hungrily returning his kisses— _all on her._

~ Four ~

I DIDN'T EXPECT TO get much sleep after my evening with Finn, and I didn't. I tossed, I turned, I remembered his kiss with intense vividness, so much so that I felt as though he were with me, in bed, touching me, and I had to open my eyes more than once to make certain I was alone.

He had gotten under my skin, like black magic does when you use it too often. Was he using black magic? Was that why I couldn't get past his shield? Dark sorcerers were dangerous because they thrived on power and had little else in their lives. Was he a Dark Wizard? Was that it? My instincts said no, but could they be wrong?

He was powerful and rich, but I didn't get a sense of wickedness or black magic, which inevitably turns its user into unconscionable creatures without compassion. No, I couldn't be wrong. I would have felt the pulse of Black Sorcery if he was using it.

Granny had taught me well, and I knew the scent and the signs. He didn't give off that scent. Quite the opposite. His scent was earthy and real and delicious. _Right, forget delicious_ , I admonished myself. What then was he?

This question worried me. So much about Finn Dunraven worried me. We had talked around the subject of witches and warlocks during dinner, but it was there hanging between us all the time. He had carefully avoided mentioning magic in any form, and yet I saw something in his eyes that made me think he wanted to talk about it.

I couldn't get past his shield, and yet when I was with him the magic in me seemed to reach for what I thought was magic in him. That was absurd, right? _Yes_ , I answered myself. _Absurd_.

In retrospect, I found my reaction to everything I sensed about him very odd, and it disturbed me on a level I didn't want to investigate.

Why? Because facing what I thought or felt about him was something I didn't want to deal with. It was all new and, right then, too new for me to dig any deeper.

If he was being honest when he told me we should get to know one another, he would soon have to be just that—honest. I didn't want to drag it out of him.

It was true I had never opened up and actually told him I was a witch, but then, why would I? If he was truly a glan (free of magic), then I was obliged to keep my secret.

_Witches and warlocks without any bother, like gypsies, on meeting will know one another._ That saying kept coming back into my head.

I was attracted to him. Okay, more than attracted. I wanted him to be my first. _Does it matter_ , I asked myself, _if he is my first and last? No, right. I am ridiculous. Why am I so ridiculous? Why can't I just be with him and walk away?_ And then that 'driving me bats' question arose again. I know that humans can't detect 'witch' in us, so why would he want to shield himself from me or any other witch? What was he hiding?

This naturally led to my next question: why did he want Granny's land—now my land?

All of that still had nothing to do with the way my body was reacting to him. Moth to a flame—a cliché, I know, but it was exactly how I felt. It was as though I had no will of my own. I was drawn to him, and now all I could dream of in my bed (while totally awake), was him. I imagined him taking off my clothes. I imagined him taking off _his_ clothes and standing there, looking at me, touching me, spreading my legs. Oh! _This had to stop._ Where did it come from? I had never been with a man, which in itself was an oddity, so I was an oddity. This was just one more oddity.

My sensors were chiming and getting in the way. They were bleating out 'warning-warning' and my smarter self—well, she wanted to heed that warning. My sexy hot witch wanted it to shut the frig up.

No other man's kisses or touch—hey, maybe I hadn't gotten laid yet, but I did have some experience, and those experiences told me no one's touch or kiss came even close to his.

I wanted more from Finn Dunraven, and that was all too clear. Tinglingly, burningly clear. My she-devil, my sex-deprived witch, had planted his name in my head, and it was all I could hear.

Finally, I gave in and used a little magic to make myself sleep.

Bad idea. Magic has a life of its own. The illusion of Finn Dunraven beside me on the bed was so real.

I dreamt that his lips were gently feathering my own, parting them with ease. His velvet tongue did a sweet, sensuous lap dance with mine and taught me a new rhythm as his hands explored my breasts and his fingers tugged at my nipples. He broke from that kiss, but only to lick and nibble his way down my neck to each of my nipples. They were taut with his ministrations, for he pulled on them, flicked them with his finger, sucked on them until I was arching my back.

His palm found the apex between my thighs, and he teased me there until I was dripping wet and hot, and I heard his voice, low and hoarse, ask, "Ready for me, are ye?"

I opened my eyes and sat up like a cannon ball exploding from its chamber. I looked around the room. I expected to find him beside me. Okay, I was okay. _Only a dream_. It was just a dream.

I scrambled off the bed and headed for the shower, determined to chase Finn Dunraven out of my head.

Afterwards, as I brushed my hair, I looked into my eyes. They were a dark violet this morning but not much the worse for a sleepless night.

What I needed was coffee, so I hurried through my morning ministrations, finally decided to put my hair up into a ponytail, threw on a pretty black and white form-fitted jogging outfit, and tied my sneakers in place before I headed down the stairs towards the breakfast room.

The waitress saw me comfortably seated at a corner table and poured me some coffee. It was hot and strong, just the way I like it. As I sipped, I felt a tingle of anticipation, though I didn't know why until I looked towards the wide dining room doors.

He stood for a moment, and I felt his eyes take me in, devour me. I leaned forward as though inviting him to do more. I was out of control ... but why wouldn't I be? _Look at him_. Everything about him was everything I had ever dreamt a man could be.

He was dressed in faded jeans. His shirt was a short-sleeved Ralph Lauren denim. He strode easily and directly to me, pointed to a chair, and said, "May I, Riley?"

I nodded vigorously. The way he said my name was like a ballad in my head. I loved to hear him talk and waited for more.

He grinned and, instead of taking an opposite seat, pulled up the chair next to me and planted himself as near as he could get without touching me. _I wanted him to touch me._ You see, there I was, going from virgin to 'have at me' without hesitation. I was hot enough at that moment to lie down and demand satisfaction right there for all the world to see. Only part of me was joking.

"Well then, lass," he said. "I was hoping to catch ye before ye left."

The waitress interrupted us, which was a good thing, because I think that slut in my head was ready to climb onto him and give him a lap dance. No longer joking at all.

She poured him coffee and took his order. He was only having a Danish this morning. She left, and as he bent towards me, he slid his hand over the table and found my fingers. My other hand was clutching my coffee like my life depended on it.

"Was there ... _something_ you wanted to discuss ...?" I asked for lack of anything else to say while I tried not looking into those green eyes of his. "Maybe now you want to talk about that piece of land you are interested in?"

"Ay, there is something, but it isn't a discussion I want with ye— _not yet_ ," he said, and his meaning was clear.

"What then?" Was that me flirting? Had I dared? This man didn't need encouragement. What was I doing? What the hell was I doing?

He bent, and even before he whispered into my ear, I felt my body quake and tremble as hot blood raced through me. He said, slow, easy, and in a way that made me certain I was in trouble, "Tell me, Ri-lea ..." Oh, how he said my name. "Are ye intimidated by me because ye are expecting me to try and get ye into bed? _Let's put your concerns to rest now, shall we_ _?_ Aye, I want what I have wanted from the first moment I saw ye. I want to lay ye on yer back and fuck the hell out of ye and then pick ye up and turn ye over and do it again and in every way imaginable. I want to kiss ye from sunrise to sunset, and it's more than yer mouth I want to be nibbling. I want to fuck ye like ye've never been fucked before, so that ye call out m'name, but, lass, _I won't_. Do ye know why I won't?"

He actually waited, like he thought I might answer.

I guess he realized I wasn't going to, because he licked his luscious lips and said, "Riley lass, much as I want to do all sorts of things to ye, things that will make ye whimper with pleasure, I just can't. I won't because ye aren't ready. No, I came to see ye for another reason altogether, and I'm trying as hard as I can to stick to that purpose. So be at ease. I'm not here to seduce ye ... _yet_."

Do ladies still slap men these days? Did I want to slap him? No man had ever said such brazen things to me ... at least not to my face or within my hearing. What he had said had made me quiver with anticipation. I didn't want to slap him—I wanted to grab him and kiss him. I wanted to call on him to make good on his promise of the pleasure he could provide.

His words had me tingling. _Damn_ , I felt my belly clench with desire. He was like watching and listening to a porn scene in the flesh. I squirmed with conflicting needs, and my _she-devil_ , who had been raging with out-of-control hormones from the moment I had seen him, shouted, _Yes, yes, now_ _!_ _Tell him you are ready now!_

The little Miss Prim I had been was scrambling to be heard. She was too late. I had thrown her to the wind. She got in one parting shot and screamed, _Save yourself, Riley_.

I ignored her as I leaned in close to him and said, "Well, that was a mouthful."

He sat back, looked at me, and burst out laughing. When his mirth subsided, he leaned in close and touched my chin with his forefinger. He then moved that finger to my lips and lightly brushed it with his touch and with a light feathering of his lips before he whispered, " _Ah, lass_ , I mean to have a mouthful." His eyes were molten as they met mine, and then he added, "But not yet. Ye think ye are ready. Ye move into me like ye think ye can handle it, but I see in yer eyes ye can't."

Our food arrived and saved me. I mean, it really saved me, because I was a goner and knew it. If he had said _, Come on, lass_ , _come to my room with me_ , I would have been so there.

He smirked as he watched me. I tried to sound cool, but the words squeaked out. "You don't know me. Not really."

He said, "Luckily, ye have been saved by the bell, _eh,_ Riley love—yer breakfast, eat."

I eyed him playfully and said as I took a home fry, "Hungry—I am hungry, aren't you?"

He laughed again, and then we ate in relative silence. I couldn't read him. I didn't know what he was thinking, but I could see ... I was sure, that he couldn't read me either. If he was human, of course he wouldn't be able to. But if he wasn't, he too would find himself thrown out by my shields. The wonder was that he had not yet tried.

~ Five ~

I STARED UP AT Maddy O'Hare's Victorian home. My grandmother's home stood proud and regal, just as she had all her life. The house, the land, everything here glowed with a welcome for my return.

Our gardener had maintained the stretch of lawns and the manicured garden beds as well as the topiary and her potted plants and flowers throughout the walkway and the covered porch. Everything looked exactly as it had. It was as though she were still there ... directing. I brushed away my silent tears, and there it was—the guilt.

I wished I had visited more over the last few years. Holidays and occasional long weekends hadn't been enough. I never could get enough of my grandmother. She was one of the best things in my life. How had I gotten so caught up in work?

She always knew when I was coming long before I made the oak tree–lined winding drive. She would be on the porch in all kinds of weather, waving and laughing and clapping her hands. I felt the fissure of loss in my heart. I felt the grief start to bombard me, and suddenly she was with me in my head.

_Riley girl._ I could hear her voice, soft and sweet as ever.

Granny, I wish it was real. I wish it was you, here, now really talking to me.

But it is real. I put myself in your head the last time you visited. Don't you remember?

_I do,_ I answered, _but I want you here with me now._

You have a path to take, and it isn't with me. You know, don't you?

No, I don't.

Something wicked threatens Sutterville. It was already moving in just before I passed.

What? What wicked?

Sorry, baby. That is all I know. Go in now and find my journal.

Where is it, Granny?

You know, you have always known. Remember the spell I taught you this past spring?

Yes.

Say it.

So I said it out loud:

"Wizard, wizard, I defy thee,

Four fingers round my thumb,

Let me go quietly by thee.

Or I will stand and be done."

What does it mean, Granny?

You will use it when you must. It has power, child. It has power, but you have more. You have always had it, but now, more than ever.

She left my head, and I felt her leaving. It was as though a breath of fresh air was sucked out of my lungs and given to the wind.

Right. This was turning out to be quite a morning. Mr. Finn Dunraven wanted to bed me. Those weren't his exact words, but I couldn't repeat them even in my head without my belly clenching and my thighs doing much the same. I never knew I could be so carnally aroused by words ... a man's words, but he wasn't like other men, was he? _Oh, no._

He bade me good-bye after breakfast, and I was aware of loss. It was that simple. He left, and I missed him the moment he walked away. He said nothing more about seeing me later that day, tomorrow, or any other time. He didn't take my cell number. He just walked away, and I assumed he headed back to get Fred. I would never have thought a man like him could be so attached to a dog—a pet. I liked that. I would have dozens of animals if I didn't spend all my time working. It wouldn't be fair to them, but one day ...

I parked my car in the circular drive, shut off the engine, and sat. This was the second time I would face my home without my dear-heart, my granny. The first time was the night she died. Had three months gone by already?

Okay, I told myself, and then took a huge, long gulp of air and let it out. I steeled myself as I got out of the car and took the wide, wooden, blue-painted steps to the front porch and the front door.

I found the house key on my key chain and let myself in. That was as far as I got before I felt my knees begin to buckle.

_Granny, oh, Granny._ My heart screamed for her. While in New York I could pretend most of the time that she was only a phone call away. She wasn't. The only thing I had left was the sound of her voice just now in my head. Even that now was gone. It would never play back.

The phone rang, and I jumped. I went to the sideboard table in the central hall and picked it up. "Hello?" I was surprised. How would anyone even know I was there yet?

"Riley." His voice swept through me.

"Hi," I said, thankful, so thankful for this interruption. I had been about to fall apart, and his call stopped that from happening.

"Would ye have dinner with me tonight at Babrino's—maybe ye know of the place?"

I love Italian food. "Yes, their food is wonderful," I said, probably a little too enthusiastically.

"Right then, I'll pick ye up at six," he said.

_Six_ , I thought, _great_. That would give me enough time to go through some papers, shower, and change. I asked, "Casual, right?"

"Oh, Riley love, as casual as ye like," he said, his voice a caress.

Everything he said sounded hot. His words tingled through my body. "Okay then," I answered.

"Okay then." He seemed to pause, and as I couldn't put down the phone, I listened for more. He said, "I miss ye, lass. I don't know how that can be, but it is."

I wasn't ready to tell him that I too missed him, so I said, "I'll see you at six." The she-devil played whore in my brain and whispered, _Oh yeah, baby, we are gonna get it tonight._

I shut her up, but the truth was, I couldn't remember my witch ever behaving like that before—ever.

~ Six ~

SUTTERVILLE IS THE most quaint fishing town. Many of our residents earn their living through the sea. Others depend on the tourists who come for our fishing, our whale-watching that departs from our harbor docks, our spooky avenue of 'haunted homes', and our absolutely the best in the world lobster rolls and lobster bisque!

We have a very friendly Main Street with dozens of dining choices, gift shops, and boutiques. Our sleepy hamlet is rich with a history of witch lore, and it always makes me smile when I think of my grandmother's coven, for a couple of her members had started a very lucrative business giving the tours of both the 'haunted houses' and one particular house reputed to be that of Laney Strand, a notorious Dark Witch.

It was only partially true. Laney had of course been mad and truly believed she was a Dark Witch, and she'd made a name for herself roaming about and cursing those who had displeased her. Tourists loved her story.

And then there were the tales of the witches that escaped Salem and the witch trials and were given safe haven in Sutterville. I smiled to myself.

Everyone who visited Sutterville wanted to know who they were, but no one was telling. Unsolved mysteries always got the tourists interested and kept up a steady stream, filling our inns and B & B's.

Were those tales true? _Oh, yes._

I stopped and parked along the curbing at Big Jim's Market. I had done little more than take a quick look around my kitchen when I realized I needed some food supplies. The charming little grocery shop right in the heart of Main Street had a little bit of everything and would more than serve my immediate needs. I didn't feel like heading over to the big commercial store just yet. I would pick up a few fresh items and the best coffee Maine had to offer right at Big Jim's.

I closed my car door, stepped up on the curb, and started searching around in my purse for my shopping list. Didn't notice anyone in front of me until I walked right into a brick wall—at least that is what he felt like!

I looked up and discovered Thor in the flesh, though he didn't have his hammer, and he was wearing a white T-shirt and a pair of ragged jeans instead of Asgardian armor. He was big and handsome and had a smile that lit up his amiable face.

"Sorry ..." he said, putting out his hands and holding me steady by my shoulders. His grin was wide and friendly. He then released a low whistle and said, "Wait ... sorry? Am I?" He gave me a showy bow and said, "Let me start over. Hel-lo!"

I laughed and said, "Hello, and I should be the one saying sorry. It was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going."

He extended his hand. "I'm Whalen Mackey, and according to the locals, even though I have been here more than three months, I'm a foreigner." He beamed pleasantly.

I gave him my hand, but instead of shaking it, he took my knuckles to his lips. I was surprised. It was 'old world' and, of course, reminded me of Finn. "Yup," I supplied. "You'd be new in town even if you were here ten years." I laughed and offered, "I'm Riley Doogan."

"Ah, your grandmother was Maddy O'Hare," he said— _not asked_ —and added, "I never had a chance to really get to know her, although we were introduced. I bought out the Wharf Inn and Restaurant. Kept the name, the staff, and the chef."

I smiled. "Oh, did you? I didn't know old man Cleve wanted to sell."

"Yeah, he decided it was time to retire. He went to live with his son and daughter-in-law in North Carolina. Said he was tired of the hard winters."

I started for the store. "Well good luck," I offered as I went towards Jim's Market.

He fell in step beside me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a silver Mercedes roadster turn the corner, and my breath hitched. _Excited_. I was excited just because I caught a sight of his car. This was bad, so bad.

Whalen inclined his head, and as he stepped away and seemed to be headed for the pharmacy next door to Jim's, he said, "Well, Riley Doogan, I hope you find a moment to stop by the inn and see the changes I've made. I tell you what, I'll treat you to our famous lobster roll if you do."

"That sounds like a winning proposition," I said on a short laugh.

He smiled and went into the pharmacy. I smiled and went into Jim's. I piled the things on my list into the shopping cart, along with some items that weren't, and then made my way to the counter and started chatting with Anna, Big Jim's wife. Some moments later, I was headed back for my car, my arms laden with packages that made the short walk a bit awkward.

I set the bags into the back seat and suddenly felt an unpleasant shiver rush through me. _I was being watched_. I sensed it, and my senses are never, and I do mean, never wrong. I looked around but didn't see anyone looking my way.

Frowning, I got into my car and headed down River Road and five minutes later up a winding hill to what I always thought of as my grandmother's house. Now it was mine.

Our driveway is a long one full of bends and lined with tall oaks whose branches meet high over the blacktop. I always feel like I am driving through a tunnel to another land. And it is just like a world apart. The notion that I was being watched had stopped as soon as I turned onto my drive. I smiled to myself.

My grandmother's 'witchy powers' had been handed down to her through generations. We didn't have fences or a gate, but the place was specifically warded and had always been impenetrable by unwanted visitors.

The separate garage is at the back, but it was just as easy to park at the front. I pulled up to the wide portico steps and sighed. Right. Had to get used to this—not having her here. What I needed to do was get settled. Get the groceries in, get my remaining suitcases inside, pour a glass of white wine, and sit in the back screened-in porch, which had a high, long view of the ocean, and just find some measure of peace.

I loved this house with its fairytale gingerbread look. I was comfortable here, and I knew that eventually I would appreciate the times, the life I led here with my grandmother and manage the loss. I looked over the new paint job Granny had done just this past year. Soft mauves and pastel blue. Just lovely.

The old Victorian house sported many jutting windows and a varied roofline as well as the usual ornate moldings particular to its Victorian style. I sighed with pleasure as I gave it one last look and went inside. Step one—start thinking of this as my home instead of Granny's.

Our ... I mean _my_ housekeeper, Stella, like Jerry the gardener, had been paid for the entire year already out of the trust fund my grandmother had set up.

The house was spotless, and I smiled to myself—just as Granny would have wanted. The wood railing of the wide staircase had been thoroughly oiled, and the scent of fresh and clean permeated the atmosphere. Stella must have been here earlier, because the flowers in the vase on the round table of the wide central hall were bright and fresh.

I headed up the stairs to my room, but just before I reached it, a strange feeling swept through me. I stopped short and looked around.

_Someone was in the house_.

Who? Could Stella have returned? She wasn't here when I was earlier.

"Hello." Receiving no reply, I moved to the top of the stairs and called down, " _Hellooo_?"

I called on my wand. I so rarely use it, but it is always with me, invisible and ever-ready. All I have to do is think, _Wand_ , and it appears in my hand. This wand was made out of rowan wood and had been a gift from my mother when I was still a child. It was ornate, gold and black, and always tingled soothingly in my hold.

No one answered my call. I brought in all the groceries to the kitchen and put them away, but I couldn't shake the sensation, the sure 'feeling' that someone was definitely in the house. Not outside, not looking in, _but actually in the house_.

More importantly, that someone in the house was most definitely a witch ... or magical in some form. I was sure of it when I suddenly got a scent.

Magic has a specific scent, and each witch has her own, unique to herself. Sometimes it is a subtle difference, but the difference is always there. I rarely wear perfume, as the artificial scent of perfume does not mix with my natural scent. Granny said I smell of vanilla and heather. I can't really smell myself, so I don't know what that really means.

All at once the witch in the house decided it was game-playing time.

_A snake appeared_.

I hate snakes. I knew the snake is an illusion ... or at least I thought it was, because it appeared too abruptly and something about its movement wasn't right. It was big, and its head was triangular so it was poisonous—a poisonous illusion, but dangerous all the same. The mind will often believe what it sees whether it is real or not.

"You are not real," I told the ugly bastard and pointed my wand. It poofed into smoke. I got cocky, raised a brow, and smirked. Why was I smirking? I had trouble in the house, and I was smirking? _You are an idiot_ , I told myself.

Granny always told me I was too alpha, too cocky, and too headstrong—just _too!_

She was right, because right then a fog formed at my feet. A dry fog—not smoke, but fog. I made a face and said, "Really?" Actually I was amazed at myself. I should be freaked out. Something bad, really bad had invaded my space. What and why? Right at that moment, all I cared about was getting rid of it, and the witch in my head grew and pushed out the human, which was a good thing because my human is really afraid of spiders, and spiders happened next.

Spiders of every size and type started crawling out of the fog.

_Eeeck, no, and double no_ , I thought as I jumped in place and started slapping them off my jeans. I hate spiders more than I do snakes.

I pointed my wand, and this time I was as angry as I was repulsed by the attack. Again, with a thought the miserable, many-legged things were gone.

I shouted, "Enough with your parlor tricks, _witch_. Show yourself—or is this all you've got?"

_Stupid, stupid me._ Why did I challenge whoever was doing this? What was wrong with me? But I needed to confront my attacker. This was not a joke. Someone meant me harm. Someone was testing me ...?

Who?

The fog started to build on itself and turn from dirty gray to dark charcoal-black. A foam started to ooze from it, and I contorted my face with my disgust.

This was messy. This witch was making a mess in my home. What the hell? Just what the hell was in my house? What was this? How was this? Why was this?

Something reached out of the foam and tried to touch my face, and I screeched as I jumped back and away. Then I pointed my wand and told it in no uncertain terms, "Begone!"

I was actually amazed when everything—the foam, the black clouds of fog—all just did as it was told. Everything back to normal as though it had never been.

_Black magic_. That was what this was. No doubt about it.

I had never encountered black magic before, but Granny had always told me what to do if ever I did. So just to be sure my house was cleansed of the evil, I swept my wand in a waving motion and demanded, "Aroint thee, witch, begone, begone, to your own magic I now thee bond."

I waited, because something told me it was still around. What to do? What to do?

My cell phone rang, and I jumped a few feet into the air.

I scrambled, got it out of my back pocket, and heard the sound of my nerves on edge as I asked, "Y...es?"

"What is it, lass? Don't be telling me naught, because I've been feeling as though something is off with ye ... no ... all around ye."

Well, there ya go, I told myself. Was he admitting to magic? Was he admitting to a sixth sense? What was he admitting to? Who cared? I needed help. "I don't know what just happened, Finn. I just don't know." I didn't even try to hide my agitation. "Look, you must have known about my granny ... I don't know _what you are,_ but if you are feeling that I am in trouble, _you are right_. Something is in the house with me, and it isn't anything good, and I don't think I have really gotten rid of it. I think it is just lying low."

"I'm on it, lass. I'll be right there," he said and hung up.

How had he known? What was Finn Dunraven, and could I trust him?

I needed to trust him, because whatever black magic was at work in my home was still in my house and gathering power. I could feel it.

I turned, and sure enough, black tentacles, slithering with suction cups opening and closing, were coming for me. The tentacles were attached to an enormous, black, furry, disgusting, and mal-formed head. That head opened what was its mouth, and that mouth was full of razor-sharp teeth, and those teeth were chomping in anticipation.

What the hell?

* * *

I am a witch who has skills, spells, and abilities that my grandmother has told me are more powerful than any white witch of her acquaintance. I don't use these skills, spells, or abilities because I wanted to lead a human life _. Human, smuman_. This thing had to die.

I pointed my wand with every intention of reciting yet another spell and sending this evil to perdition when something began to hum at my side.

Oh, no, had the monster with the teeth summoned help? A black hole had formed, and as I kept my wand pointed at it, the hum got a bit louder.

A tentacle slithered towards me, and I hurriedly zapped it with my wand. It screeched and scurried backwards. I held it at bay, afraid to look away from it towards this new threat.

The black hole was filled with power, and then out of the corner of my eye, it was as though a giant drill had bored a hole through the atmosphere, and out stepped ... Finn Dunraven.

Like Indiana Jones to the rescue. The notion tickled me. I started to laugh. I know, I was a bit hysterical at that point. I had gone from a human, relatively happy human, yes, relatively safe human living in New York City to ... a witch under attack from ... monsters, just like that, with a snap of the proverbial fingers.

Laughing took over, and although I had my wand handy, I couldn't stop the mirth that shook my body.

Finn stood in front of me, between me and the teeth with the many tentacles, and with a flick of his wrist, it was gone. So was all the black magic I had felt invading my home.

It was as though the air, putrid from evil only a moment ago, had been thoroughly cleansed and renewed.

I stopped laughing because my mouth fell open.

Finn wasn't smiling as he looked around and sniffed. He did curse a few times under his breath, and then two hard strides brought him directly up to me.

Laughter and fear had given over to shock. I was frozen in place. This had been my first experience against blatant Dark Magic.

I was thoroughly stunned. I couldn't move as I watched him, mesmerized as he first put up a finger, frowned, dropped his hand, and then took up my chin.

His voice was soft though anxious. "Are ye all right then, lass? Did it touch ye?"

I shook my head vigorously. "No, no ... didn't touch me—yes, wait, the spiders they were on my jeans ... spiders, hate spiders ... all over the place there were spiders." I sounded hysterical even to my own ears.

"Never mind the spiders—they were illusion," he said.

"What about that thing ... with the teeth? Illusion? I'd swear that was more than a parlor trick," I said.

"Aye, that was a demon. He called a demon in to have at ye," he told me matter-of-factly. I couldn't do anything but stare and splutter.

He patted my arm and said, "Come. I'll make us some tea, and we'll talk."

"Tea," I repeated, grasping at something normal and nice, but then I saw, still round and pulsating with might, super-charged and spurting off blue sparks of light, the portal he had come through. Oh yeah, I know all about portals. My grandmother was the only one of the coven who could create a portal, and she wasn't always successful. Said they were tricky things. "Tea," I repeated and heard the numbness in my voice.

He frowned, and the next thing I knew, he'd picked me up as though I were a child, cradle-like, and was carrying me towards the portal spitting sparks. Right before my eyes it was spitting blue sparks, and he was ... oh no, he was stepping inside it.

"Nooo," I told him. Too late. We were in the portal. I closed my eyes.

Like he listened? Totally ignored, more like. Into the hole we went. I buried my face against his shoulder and closed my eyes. _This isn't happening_ , I told myself.

_Yes, it is_ , my witch said and clapped her hands. _Finally._

Maybe I was still in Manhattan, sleeping in my bed, having a nightmare, just a nightmare, and any moment I was going to wake up.

He set me on my feet, but I wasn't ready to let go of him. So we stood with his arms enfolding me, and he said soft and low, "Riley, yer fine now."

"Fine? I'm not fine ... I'll never be fine again. What the hell was that?" I demanded but was surprised that my voice was a hush. I thought I had shouted the words.

He took my hand and pulled me along.

I felt my knees cave, and once again he scooped me up, this time to carry me right smack dab into his huge bedroom and set me down on his huge bed. Waywardly I wondered about what else was huge about his huge self and giggled. Yup, still hysterical.

He eyed me and frowned as he said, "Rest here ... I'll fetch the tea."

I sat up on his bed and glanced at the four posts, the fireplace all set up and ready to be lit. _A fire would be nice_ , I thought, trying to feel 'normal' in this really abnormal situation.

It was late summer, and in this part of Maine the evenings could do with a warm little fire, especially after facing gnashing monster teeth and suck-ya-up tentacles.

I ran my hand over his black and gray satin sheets and wondered if he always slept alone in this bed. _Of course not_ , I answered myself. He probably had women coming and going all the time. Yet ... my instinct hinted otherwise.

Was that my instinct or my hopes?

He was back with a tray laden with a teapot, cups, and cookies. Yay, cookies. I needed a cookie.

He set the tray down on the nightstand, and I reached over, took up a sugar cookie, and stuffed it into my mouth. What? It was small, but his eyes opened wide with humor, and he said, "Fighting monsters makes ye hungry, eh, lass?"

I nodded. "Yup, that's what we monster fighters do afterwards ..." And then, for no reason at all, I burst out crying.

He took me into his arms and patted my back. As my tears subsided and I sniffed, his pats turned into a gentle rub and the gentle rub turned into something that was all too sensuous for me not to react to.

He took my shoulders and set me apart. "Better, love?"

I nodded and watched as he poured two mugs of tea and asked how I took it. "With a shot of blackberry brandy," I teased.

He got up and moved towards a cabinet, opened the door to display a small bar, and produced a small bottle of blackberry brandy. "As m'lass wishes." He grinned and dropped a hefty portion into my cup and then into his.

I took my time. I collected my thoughts. I sipped my brandy-laced tea, and then I looked at his thoughtful, handsome face and reasonably asked, "What the hell?"

He arched his brow at me. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to figure out what was going on in that head of his.

He got up from the chair he had pulled up beside the bed and paced to the window while I silently watched him. He turned back to me, and this time he downed the remainder of his cup and sat beside me on the bed.

"How much did your grandmother tell ye about me?"

"How much?" I frowned. I knew now she hadn't told me a thing really. I chewed my upper lip, sucking it into my mouth, and saw a hungry look come into his eyes. My breath hitched. Even in the midst of all that had just happened, I was drawn to him ... sexually, heatedly drawn to this man. "Only that she wanted me to meet you. What should she have told me?"

He eyed me and answered vaguely, "A great deal she obviously has not."

"Like what?"

He sighed heavily. "I suppose she wanted to deal with it in person. She did say you were reluctant to use your skills."

Well, out in the open we are, I thought. "My skills? Why don't you tell me about your skills?"

Fred came wagging and padding into the room at that point and diverted my mind, as he wanted attention. I gave it to him, ruffling his head, and asked, "Where have you been?"

"I sent him to sniff out your grounds." He looked at Fred. "Well, young man?"

He barked and then growled.

"Left, has it? Good. We shall have to ensure it doesn't return. Good lad, go and eat the special treat I left ye."

Fred turned and happily padded out while, fascinated, I watched. "He understood everything you said."

"Of course," Finn answered on a laugh.

I sighed heavily. I was at a loss to understand anything. I looked at him squarely and asked, "Finn Dunraven, I feel like I have stepped into an alternate dimension, and I'm not sure what to do about it. What is it I don't know that I should know?"

"I imagine, everything. The problem is where do I start? Apparently Prio has decided you are a threat and means to take you on."

"Sure he does," I said and then gritted my teeth. "Who the frigging heck is Prio?" I frowned. "No, wait. First ... who are you, Finn Dunraven, or should I really ask, what are you?"

~ Seven ~

"YE ALREADY KNOW m'name, lass, I am Finn of Dunraven, but I am not of this Realm," he said quietly.

"No, of course you are not. Why would anything be simple? Monsters invading my house, probably also from another realm, and somebody called Prio wants to take me on ..." I felt hysteria starting to infiltrate my brain again and heard the shriek in my voice.

"I understand ye are upset, and I'm not promising that, once ye have the facts, that will change, but if ye remain calm, I will try and tell ye what ye need to know."

"What I need to know is everything," I demanded and then a hand went to my forehead and the words rushed out. "I can't believe this—I can't believe any of this."

"Lass, ye are Wicca. Magic should be an understood way of life. Ye should not find this all so hard to believe."

"Look, as a white witch ... I don't play with Dark Magic. That is the whole story right there," I told him irritably.

"Well, now ye will, but I guarantee ye, it won't be playing," he said harshly. "Sometimes things are thrust upon us and all we can do is _what we must_." He eyed me. "Ye do understand now, that is why Maddy asked me to return. She had seen the signs of what was to come."

"And are you saying my grandmother knew that something like this was about to happen?" That distressed me. Was she afraid in her last days? Was she? And I didn't go to her? I didn't know and wasn't there for her. I should have known something was wrong. "Why didn't she call me ... tell me she needed me up here?"

"No doubt, she was trying to keep ye safely out of it for as long as she could," he answered softly. He waited for me I think to digest this and then added, "Right, so let me tell ye a story and put it so ye can understand. Once upon a time, five hundred years ago, there was a prince of the realm who thought his queen was abusing her power. He decided the only way to stop her was to assassinate her. His plan failed, and he used a special artifact to escape."

"Are you saying this so-called prince is this Prio character?"

"Aye." Finn nodded. "He had many followers, and he used black magic to attain his needs. He believed he was in the right of it, but he wasn't, and black magic is forbidden in our realm, the use of it ... sometimes punishable by death."

"Was death his sentence?" I was curious now more than I was scared.

"No, but he escaped before he heard his sentence, and I don't think he cared. He wanted to hide until he was ready to return and strike again."

"So he found a way to come here?" I asked, but I already knew.

"Aye ... but he didn't realize that the queen had sent out her best guardian to capture him and imprison him until he could be returned."

"You," I said. "So for five hundred years you have been tracking this guy?"

"No, it only took me one hundred years to find him, but when I tried to return with him, I found that only I could transport home. He used Dark Magic to force ... to create the portal he used, but he can only use that particular portal once every five hundred years."

I watched Finn because something about everything he had told me fit, but I knew he was still holding back. He wasn't telling me everything. Worried, I started playing with my fingers. He grabbed them and held them to his lips.

"I'll tell ye what I told yer grandmother—this isn't yer fight. I meant to keep her out of it, and I damn well mean to do the same with ye."

"I'm not sure you can. The fight seems to have come to me."

He got up and paced before running a hand through his black hair. I knew I stared at him more than I should. It was probably rude, but I couldn't help myself.

I tried to be patient and wait it out, wait for him to tell me more, but patience really isn't my thing. None—zero in the patient department. Never had any, not sure I want any. I am all about instant gratification, though I have been working on repairing this just a little—with only some erratic success.

"Prio is the worst of our kind," he said as he turned. "The worst because of who he was and what he could have been. The worst because he has allowed the black magic to seep into and destroy who he was. When I first caught up with him ... just outside San Diego ..." His voice trailed off, and I waited.

When he didn't proceed, I asked him, "Wait ... you followed him to the human world ... and what about Fred? I know Fred isn't from this world. I can see it in his eyes—he is way smarter than our smartest dogs."

"When I transported Fred wouldn't stay behind. He came through with me."

"Wait ... Five hundred years? You ... you ... Fred ...?"

"Are immortals, yes, we are."

"Holy shit, this is hard to believe," I whispered as this information clamored into my head and demanded examination. He was an immortal. He would live forever. I was a mortal. One day I would look older ... and die. I shook that deduction away for another time. "So, wait ... you found him, then what?"

"I bound him to a magical place between worlds, and there he stayed until this past year."

"He escaped? How?"

"There was an earthquake, and it shook through the dimension I had bound him within. It was enough of a crack for him to use his darkness, and he escaped. I didn't know at first ... and then I began hearing of 'ritual killings'. I investigated and discovered he was on the loose and taking his ounce of revenge."

"How is killing innocent people taking revenge on you or his queen?" I asked, feeling a great deal of dislike for the unknown Prio.

"He knew it would hurt me that he was taking innocent lives." He shook his head. "At any rate, I finally tracked him and found that he had visited the woods surrounding Dunraven. He had not been able to break through my wards, but I knew he would try again. Your grandmother wrote to me and told me that she 'felt' a Dark Power closing in, and so I settled in. He didn't return, and I incorrectly decided to try tracking him once more."

"And?"

"Nothing. I found nothing of his magical residue to follow, but your grandmother contacted me again, and this time she told me she thought he might be strong enough to breach her wards. I told her to reinforce them until I could return."

I stared at Finn for a long moment. "And you returned, but it was too late ... did Prio kill my grandmother?" My voice cracked on this, as did my heart.

His finger gently caressed my cheek, and I had a ridiculous need to close my eyes and sink into his touch. I remained upright and strong as I waited for his answer.

"I am not certain about that," he said quietly.

While I absorbed this and everything else he'd told me, I saw him ice up and put distance between us. It was as though a wall had suddenly slammed down between us.

I could see he didn't want to explain any further. Suddenly he said, "That is enough for ye to absorb in one day, don't ye think so, love?"

_I wanted to know more_. He was talking about centuries. "You ... you ... how old _are_ you exactly?" I asked, staring at this beautiful man from another world. Here is the thing. Even through all of this, it had completely hit me that I was still completely attracted to him on a level that was going to gather muster, stand up, and break my heart in two.

He gave me a rueful smile. "We'll talk about that another day. What we need to do tomorrow, at first light, is ward your home and land."

"So my grandmother's white magic wards don't work against this guy?"

"First, never think of Prio as a 'guy'. He isn't. He is a vicious killer. Remember that. As to your grandmother's reinforced wards—no, they obviously aren't magical and ancient enough to keep out Prio's black sorcery. She had hoped they would be, but we know now for certain that he can get past them."

"Why did you leave?" I asked fretfully, wanting to blame someone at that moment for my grandmother's death and for my not having been there to protect her.

"Because I believed there was another portal to our realm opening in Venice—an old prophecy I had studied in an ancient text. I had to be certain he hadn't gone there. There was no doubt that he had been in Venice. I found evidence of him everywhere I looked. Now I see it was to throw me off. He must have backtracked and returned here." Finn frowned. "I should have anticipated his behavior, but I was so convinced that he had found another portal. I had to be certain it was a ruse."

Suddenly all I wanted was for him to hold me and make it all stop. My head was filling up with facts that were beyond my ability to dissect so quickly. That same doubt that had hit me a moment before flickered through my head again. "It was Prio, wasn't it? He caused my granny's stroke?"

"I don't know."

"But it is possible?"

"Possible, yes. Prio would want to eliminate any power he could not usurp."

"If he tried to usurp my grandmother's magic and she resisted ...?"

"Don't go there, lass," he said quietly and took my knuckles to his lips.

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again and looked into his I saw that the green color of his had darkened. Something smoldering beneath the surface lit in their depths, and I was drawn to him. But, no, I had to keep a clear head. How did I know he was speaking the truth?

"Why me—and why now?"

"Because you have more power in your little pinky than your entire coven has as a whole. Prio will discover this and come after you. Just now, he thinks you are only an ordinary Wiccan, nothing more, and he has little respect for any but himself." He sighed. "That is all ye need to know for now."

"That is all I need to know? I don't think that is so, and neither do you."

"We'll go into it all and more thoroughly at another time. What ye need to know right now is that he will come after your late grandmother's coven. I am certain he has attained enough strength to take them on one by one."

This was quite a bit to absorb. I went from being a young woman with a successful business taking a little break to get it together over my grandmother's death to ... what? This was not the journey I had meant to take when I made the trip home. This was way out of my league, my sights, my ... _everything,_ and yet, someone in my head told me Prio was an evil I had a duty to take on.

If this Prio monster had been the reason my grandmother had a stroke ... well, then, he needed dying, and mine had to be the hand to accomplish that. It wouldn't bring her back, but it would at the very least eliminate a creep from our world.

If he meant to come after her friends, I owed it to her to protect them. I would have to do everything I could in her memory to make it right, wouldn't I? Yes, I would. Like it or not, I was in this thing—whatever this thing was. "So he is after power?" I said, not really needing confirmation.

"Aye, to come up against me, he'll need more power than he presently owns. Even with all the dark he has accumulated—actually become—it won't be enough when we face off, as ye humans call it," Finn said grimly.

I studied him and looked deep into his speaking eyes. It was obvious he was determined, but something told me he truly wasn't looking forward to destroying this Prio monster. I had to wonder why.

My grandmother had taught me that, no matter how impatient I might be to have something, sometimes I needed to hold my tongue.

I had that down pat. I held my tongue and came at what I wanted to know through a back door. I asked, "If that is true, why haven't you managed to kill him in all these years?"

"I never tried to kill him, only contain him," Finn said on a black frown.

"Why is that?"

"Why doesn't matter. It is what it is," Finn answered impatiently.

There was something here I was missing, but I didn't care. I had made up my mind. "He needs killing, Finn. I think my granny died fighting him off, and I mean to settle that score."

"Och, now, lass, ye can't go up against Prio ... ye don't know enough Dark Magic," Finn said.

"Don't I? Well, then, I'll just have to learn, and I think you know enough to teach me," I answered.

"Dark Magic is addicting. Ye have to have a strength of will to keep it from taking ye over. Do ye have that, Riley Doogan?"

"Oh aye," I answered without pleasure, mimicking his Irish lilt, " _Oh aye_."

He didn't smile as he took my hand and tugged me off the bed. "Right then, we'll start this afternoon."

~ Eight ~

IT WAS LATE, and dusk hovered as I walked beside Finn. We had trudged over the perimeter of the land immediately surrounding my home. Fred had joined us, gleefully bounding off in joyous spurts, and I loved watching him. At times like that he was all dog, and at other times, when he listened intently to what we were saying, he seemed more. Finn said he was thirty percent smarter than the average dog in our realm. Imagine having a dog that didn't die. How great was that?

Finn taught me a warding chant as we protected every inch of my home against Prio of Argle. Apparently Finn's realm was one of immortals adept at magic and far advanced in science.

"Won't he be able to find a way past these?"

"No, they are wards that are laced with a particular brand of Dark and Light Magic." He sighed. "My place is warded with m'own blood. He can't get past any warding spell that contains my blood. Would that I could do yers as well today but that sort of thing takes time and intricate magic."

"Oh." I thought of facing Prio on my own alone in my house and bit my upper lip. He put his arm around me and said, "Not leaving ye in yer home alone tonight, so don't be asking that of me. I'd like to please ye in most things ... but I can't allow that. Ye'll stay with me, and that will give me time to test the wards we've installed here on the morrow."

"Why do you have to test them?" Stay with him? Where with him? In his bedroom? Did I want that? Oh, damn straight I did.

"Lass, nothing is ever foolproof. Prio is a royal, and a powerful one at that. I wouldn't be surprised that given time he will find a way around them."

I had seen a faraway look come into Finn's eyes when he spoke of Prio. Sadness touched his face, and I was puzzled. I asked, "He was your friend once upon a time?"

"M'friend—aye, he was m'friend for a good part of m'life. Would be still if he hadn't ... but we all have our reasons, and he had his." Finn looked away from me, and I had to wonder what this really meant. What reason would make a man turn to evil? What was Finn holding back?

There was more to this story than he was letting on, but I didn't want to pry any further. Did it matter? Yes, I needed the facts, all the facts. Why hadn't Finn killed him? Why did I hear a touch of sympathy for this crazy-assed killer in Finn's voice? Finn appeared to me to be quite capable of ending the evil immortal's life if he so chose, so why hadn't he? Why did he still seem reluctant to do that?

"How can an immortal from your realm be killed?" I asked, breaking the quiet that had descended between us.

He shrugged. "Most immortals can be destroyed—killed with what is known as a Death Sword. There is beheading and then burning, and there is a plant that grows in our realm, the _Hora_ , which is poisonous to most of us."

"And? I get the feeling there is another way as well," I asked, sure that once again he was not telling me everything.

"Ye don't need to know more than that, lass. Everything will be clear, all in good time and one step at a time," he said, and I felt him retreat from me.

The last thing he did was a sweep of the entire interior of my house. He went into cupboards and closets, he went into the cellar, into every nook and cranny, and when he was done, he sighed heavily and said, "I'm fair certain Prio will not be able to enter here without an invitation, at least for the time being."

"I won't be inviting him in, that is for sure," I said on something of a snort.

He smiled and said, "Come, lass, I want to get some food into ye, and then ye need to get some rest."

As he led me out of the house, I tugged back on his hand and said, "Finn?"

"What, lass?"

"Thank you," I said simply.

He touched my cheek with his palm. It was a sweet caress, but it sent waves of sensation coursing through me. Was it wise—me going with him? I said weakly, "Maybe I should stay home and spend some time looking for my grandmother's journal."

"Ask me if ye stand a chance in hell of staying here. Ask me, lass, if ye want to hear my ill temper hit the wind."

I am a contrary creature. Tell me what to do, and even if I want to, I buck. "Yes, but—" I started.

"If I have to, Riley love, I'll sling ye over m'shoulder, and that will be that. Do ye understand me? And if ye are worried that I mean to take advantage of ye in m'home while ye are vulnerable, well, think again. I'm not that sort. I don't take what isn't offered, and until yer eyes are open wide and ye make me an offer I can't refuse ... ye are safe. Are we clear?"

I nodded because I couldn't speak. He did things to my mind, to my stomach, to that place between my thighs that so needed some attention.

I did want to stay with him where I knew I would be safe. I didn't know why I trusted him, but I did. "Okay, just let me get my overnight bag and—"

"Already done," he answered, cutting me off. "I've put everything ye need and then some in yer own private suite, down the hall from mine and in screaming distance." He grinned. "Ye have yer own private bath and closets, and damn, but I won't be letting ye return home for some days, so I hope ye'll make yerself comfortable."

I found his green eyes, and they were dark with whatever thoughts he was hiding from me, but one thing I knew for certain. He was telling the truth. He meant to keep me safe. Could he? Well, as to that, I believed he could. "How could you know what I will need?"

He grinned wickedly. "I'm an immortal. I've been around a long time, ye silly wench. I know what a woman needs, but more importantly, Riley—I know what ye need."

I ignored the deep-seated meaning behind his words and asked, "When did you do all that?"

"When we first arrived here, just before we started walking the perimeter. Ye made it easy. Ye haven't even unpacked. Both suitcases are in yer room at my place, and if there is anything else ye need ... ye have only to mention it to me."

We drove back to Dunraven in his roadster via Babrino's. He saw me fed with my favorite, chicken Masala and pasta. I was surprised at myself because I devoured everything in sight; I hadn't realized how hungry I was. He was pleased and said, "Good lass. Now if I could get that cannoli into ye, I'd be as happy as a pig in ..." He grinned, and I laughed out loud.

"For an immortal from another realm, you have all our sayings down pat," I told him. I added, "Yes ... cannoli. Shall I get it?"

"Aye, lass that would be lovely. I'll put on the tea."

We lingered over dessert and talked about so many things that had nothing to do with Dark Magic, Prio, Wiccan, or a trouble.

He was just a guy. I was just a girl. And it was as comfortable as heaven.

It was late, much later than I realized, when he walked me upstairs and opened the door to show me the suite I would be occupying while a guest in his spacious home. Blues and mauves in soft strokes covered the four-poster bed and hung at the bowed window. A group of flowery rugs in the same shades were scattered purposely around the hardwood floor. Dark oak furniture, a vanity with a large mirror, and a blue upholstered swivel chair all caught my eye and made me remark, "Ah ... beautiful."

"You deserve more," he said on a whisper.

Fred broke up the sudden tension between us when he swept past us in the doorway and went inside my room. He stood with what looked like a smile, his tail wagging and his tongue hanging before he plopped on the oval rug at my bedside.

We laughed.

Finn said, indicating with a show of his chin, "Your bags ... open and ready for you to unpack, and in your closet, I transferred a few things from your bedroom closet ... just in case you needed them."

Fred gave me a short bark as though he was telling me to come on in and get comfortable. I chuckled.

Finn grinned and said, "He likes ye, lass. He never sleeps with anyone but me. This is a first."

"Have you had anyone else stay with you here?" I asked, curious and wondering if any other woman had been here with Finn.

"Only once when a couple of friends I know in Boston came up for a visit. I went to Tufts for a time some years ago, just to acclimate to this world a bit better. I helped them set up their law firm, and they came up to celebrate their first year with me."

"No one else?"

"If ye are asking if I bring women to m'home, the answer is no, by the Kingdom of Land and Sea, no. Never. Ye be the exception, so far, to every rule I have ever had."

He didn't linger at the door after that but bid me good night.

I stood in the open doorway and watched his back as he moved down the hallway to his own room.

I left my door open. I saw he left his open as well.

I turned and asked Fred, "What the hell have I walked into here? You know, don't you, that I haven't in the past even wanted to play with my inherent magic, let alone find new spells and use them against dark forces."

I started to remove my clothes and then eyed him. "Hmm. You better close your eyes, Freddy boy."

I burst out laughing when he put his face between his paws. Taking my nightie and robe, I headed for the shower.

Talk about luxurious. The walk-in shower was enormous, with a place for everything, including my ass. Many jets soothed my frazzled nerves, and I took longer than I usually did standing in the hot, massaging spray.

I knew something was a certainty, and surprisingly enough, I had already come to grips with it. Sooner or later I was going to have to use everything I had inside me and become exactly who I was—maybe more.

The normal girl I had been showing the world didn't exist. I needed to take my last journey and be all that I could be.

Dry, my hair brushed, my nightie and silk robe just hiding some of my body, I stepped up to the bed and told Fred, who looked up at me and I swear grinned, "Well, boy, what do you think will come at us next?

He whimpered as though he understood what I was saying. His answer clearly told me, "Nothing good."

"Okay," I returned. "Well, my granny always told me that when things start to get out of control I should take a deep breath and take the time to study the situation. So, tomorrow, that is what I will do. I'll get a hold of her journal and see if I can make sense of all of this."

Fred thumped his tail on the rug, apparently in agreement with me and Granny. He then rolled over and invited me to rub his tummy. I laughed, bent to comply, and told him, "I'm glad you are here, boy."

He wiggled, apparently pleased as well.

* * *

Morning came, and I was amazed at how soundly I had slept. I don't know how that was, considering what I had experienced the day before, and yet, just like that proverbial baby.

I admit that when I first put my head down, it was to fantasize for a few moments about the man down the hall. For the first few moments it was him right there, as sexy as my imagination and memory would allow, which meant he was naked to the waist and in his designer jeans. I love his tattoos which covered his biceps, and an unusual set of runes intricately designed over his heart. Was I dreaming? It felt so real. Then it was _bam,_ and into never, never land I went.

Then just before I awoke this morning, I thought I felt his mouth on mine. It was so real. His deft fingers roamed over my body as his voice, low and husky, whispered in my ear, "Relax, lass ... aye, just like that."

My eyes flashed open, and I was sure he was there, with me, on top of me, but although my thighs were pressed against each other with fiery need, he wasn't there.

My sex was wet and on fire with need. My inner witch wouldn't stop saying his name.

I had to get control over myself.

Fred stuck his head into the room, looked at me, laughed (I am sure it was a laugh), and padded over to put his nose on the bed. I patted his head, and he dropped back down. He had evidently been on the prowl.

Bright rays of light shined through my window. I blinked and told myself I should have closed the pretty drapes, sighed, and pulled myself up. Time to face the new day.

Some twenty minutes later, I was showered and in a fresh pair of jeans and a red tank top, with my jean jacket slung over my shoulder. I made my way downstairs, where the scent of bacon was driving me insane. I couldn't remember feeling this hungry in ages, and I had eaten voraciously the night before. I shouldn't have been so hungry, but I knew magic burns calories.

Finn was at the stove, slinging hash so to speak, and I laughed. He was a masculine, dominant male, and it was a warm feeling watching him once again cook in his kitchen. It was one thing to barbecue on the deck, but here he was working with pots and pans and putting mint leaves on dishes. He was adorable, if a hunk in torn Lauren sexy jeans and a black T can be thought of as adorable.

He grinned at me and said, "Good morn to ye, Riley. Did ye sleep well?"

"Yes, in fact, I did, thank you. Hey there, are you actually cooking?" I teased as I walked up to peek at what he was doing.

"Aye, I enjoy cooking simple meals," he said and looked sideways at me. Those green eyes of his were dark with unspoken thoughts, and I wondered what was going on in his head. He said, " _Sit_. We have eggs, hash, potatoes, and bacon, and ye are going to eat everything on yer plate because ye will need your strength for what is coming next, lass."

Oh, there it was _, what was coming._ I frowned at him. What had happened to my normal, ordered life? I sighed heavily and sank onto a bar stool near the long center island counter.

I didn't speak, and he stopped what he was doing and put his hand to my cheek. I had to force myself not to close my eyes, but then as I looked into his soul-touching green pools, I felt my knees quake. I was sitting, and my knees were jittery.

He said, "Don't look like that, lass. We'll do. _I have a plan_."

"Plans in my experience never go exactly as ... _planned,"_ I answered despondently. We needed more than a plan. We needed to know what Prio was planning.

He laughed and turned back to his various pans. He filled a plate with delicious-smelling food and handed it to me.

I nearly choked and shook my head at him. I rarely eat breakfast, and I stared at the plate full with potatoes and sausages, bacon and eggs, not to mention an English muffin already buttered and jammed with my favorite blueberry preserves.

"I can't eat all that!" I told him firmly.

"Ye can and ye will."

His expression told me that he meant to keep me there until I at least made an attempt, and I laughed. Ordinarily I don't allow anyone to tell me what to do. I am all grown up, or so I had believed until that moment.

I poked the eggs with my fork and mumbled, "Out of deference to my host, I will try."

He grinned and said, his voice low, so low, so lilting and masculine, "Ah, polite, is it? Good, whatever it takes, love."

He poured the coffee. I sipped and peeped up at him. He dove into his food with relish, and I couldn't help but laugh as I started on mine.

I watched him put away mouthfuls and had in fact managed a fair amount myself when he glanced at my plate and grinned. "How do ye like m'cooking?"

"Good," I managed and smirked and then sighed because I honestly could not eat another bite. I pushed the plate away and said, "There, how is that?"

He made a face and said, "Aye then ... good girl. I'm thinking that Fred will finish it for ye, won't ye, lad?"

Fred pranced, and I laughed as I got up and put the plate down for him. Gone. One sweep and it was gone, and Fred looked up hopefully for more.

"No, lad, we can't have ye getting fat on me, now can we?" Finn said on a chuckle. "Go on out, Fred, and have a good run."

Fred padded out of the kitchen, and we both watched him and laughed.

Something warm and hypnotic swept through me as I watched Finn collect the plates and pile them into the dishwasher. He was a dream-man, and if I wasn't careful I could fall ... if I hadn't already.

When he turned back to me, his dark green eyes were alive and dancing as he said, "Right then, love, we have a day ahead of us."

"Do we?" I said my brow up. "I didn't know you were in charge of my days."

"I want to be in charge of yer days and nights. Do ye nae feel it, lass?" He took up a strawberry from the glass bowl of freshly washed berries, and he was close, so close.

"Feel it?" I managed to squeak out.

"Aye, and don't make me explain what ye already know ..."

He plopped the strawberry into my mouth, and I sucked on it. I heard his breath hitch, and then he was turning away. The heat was in my cheeks—more, the heat had scooted up my veins and had infiltrated every inch of my body.

Being hand fed by this amazing man had for some reason shattered all my defenses. In that moment, I would have agreed to anything he said.

I swallowed the berry and asked, "Okay, so what first?"

He turned back to me, and his eyebrow was raised. Damn, he was hot, so hot, so handsome, so expressive. I couldn't look away from his face, and he asked, "Why are ye blushing, love?"

"Am I?"

He released a small, short snort, "Aye, Riley ... ye are." And then his hand was on my waist, and he was pulling me in close. "Do ye know the effect ye have on a man ... on me?"

I swallowed and discovered a piece of the berry I hadn't chewed yet. It went down my throat and lodged itself as though by design. It made me cough and then cough again.

Oh, here I was with the sexiest man on earth, and I'd just choked in his face. He laughed, hugged me close, and said, "Riley—there is no one like ye. I am fair addle-brained over ye and not certain what to do about it."

I stopped choking and coughing and looked into his eyes at that. Big mistake. If I'd been falling for him a moment ago, this last exchange took me all the way. Not falling ... no. I had already done that, and now I was in the quicksand with no easy way out. Did I want out?

"The wonder is that ye don't even know what effect ye have on a man. Riley, ye are exquisite of body, mind, and heart, and I tell ye now, here and now, it is a problem for me."

Embarrassed because I don't take compliments easily, I laughed a bit nervously and shook my head. "I ... I ... we should probably get going."

His eyes devoured me, and he said softly, "Should we, Riley? I'm thinking ye know ye have me on m'knees ... but ye know that, don't ye?"

I laughed derisively. That was a line I had heard more than once, in one form or another. I'm not big on lines. "I've heard that kind of talk. Kinda immune to it." What was he doing? Why was he doing this to me? He was always giving me mixed signals—one minute warning me away, the next drawing me in.

"Immune is it? Good," he said thoughtfully.

Okay, I needed out of this conversation. I pushed off him and started out of the kitchen. He gently stopped me by reaching for my hand. I turned and found our gazes locked.

He said on a hoarse note, "Aye, then, get what ye need—yer purse or whatever. We have a long day ahead of us."

"Yes, my purse, but what do you mean—long day? What do you have in mind?"

"What I have in mind, and what we have to do are two very different things," he said on a low note that swept right through my brain and ended up between my thighs.

What does one say to something like that? I didn't say anything, and as it turned out, I didn't have to. He still had my hand, and with one tug I was in his arms.

He bent his head to mine and rubbed his face against my cheek before he whispered a low groan in my ear. "I didn't want to do this, but I can't seem to help m'self. Forgive me, lass, because I know I shouldn't ... I know it isn't fair."

Forgive him? For taking me in his arms? That was just where I wanted to be. Why wasn't it fair? Because he wasn't the sort to commit? Okay, but being in his arms was just where I wanted to be. I had been filled with anticipation all morning, waiting, and hoping for this.

I didn't resist. Why the hell should I? I was a grown woman. I was fascinated by him ... maybe in love with him, and I wanted this with him more than I had ever wanted anything ever before.

He had me pressed up against his powerful body, and his mouth was on mine, intensely demanding, uncontrolled, taking what I was so willing to give. His tongue gently eased mine into submission and teased a response that had me clenching my thighs as I felt a hot, wet pool collect in my lacy panties.

His hands moved to my butt, grabbed hold, and pulled me in fiercely as though he were a man in a desert and I an oasis.

I felt his erection brand my hip right through my jeans as he molded me to him, and I felt as though there was nothing else but this moment and the primal lust I felt for this man, this gorgeous, skilled man.

I didn't live in a vacuum. I knew from many descriptions what a woman will feel when made love to by the right man. Here was the right man and the irresistible call to the wild. I went completely feral in his arms.

I pushed against him with a strength I hadn't hitherto been aware I had and found that I had planted him twenty feet across the kitchen and against a wall. His response was virile, skilled, and nearly brutal in its demands.

I was his. I totally capitulated to his touch. I wanted him—I wanted this. His tongue swept mine with skilled strokes. I felt transported into a world of sensation.

His deft fingers worked me in ways I had never imagined possible as they massaged and traveled over my body. Life had become complicated and messy, but this, this was something I knew I had wanted from the moment Finn Dunraven had walked into my life.

I never wanted this to stop. I was hot ... so damn hot. I wanted out of my clothes. I was hot, and I needed air ... I needed out of my clothes.

I didn't know where this 'feeling' would take me or how it would end, but I knew that for this moment in time, it was right, it was here ... and oh ... _my clothes were gone!_ It was as though he read my thoughts and magically removed everything but my now wet lacy black thong.

_Magic_. He used it at will. I had always been so careful not to use it, but at the moment I saw its wonderful advantages.

He was dangerous to my future well-being. I knew that at once. He was a risk I wanted to take. He was powerful and magic, and the current between us was more than lust. I was sure of it. He felt more than lust, just as I did. Was I fooling myself?

I was running into his world with my eyes wide open, and I knew it might break me, and yet, I couldn't stop. I was falling into something that might be too much for me to handle, and if he left, if he left in the end, I knew I would break and never be the same. I should stop him.

He stepped back, and his smoldering gaze raked over my body, settled on my nipples, and then went up to my face as he said, his voice hoarse and hungry, "Riley ... ye are the most beautiful woman I have ever known, and I don't want to hurt ye. _Make me stop now_ ... tell me to stop, and I will, because I don't have the strength to do it on m'own."

Even as he said this, his clothes disappeared and he stood there, all feral, rippled and muscular, and I couldn't stop my gaze from traveling over him. His cock pulsed with vigor and need, and I wondered how he would ever fit that inside me. He was a gorgeous man. Stop? How could I help him to stop when I didn't want to?

Someone inside my head shouted a warning at this juncture. _Here is the out you need, Riley_ _—_ _take it_ _!_ That woman was my staid and logical self. She wasn't any fun. She was safe. She had always kept me safe. Someone else, someone I call my she-devil, deep inside my brain, came to the front row and said, _Riley ... time to live ... time to take chances and really live._ At that moment in time, of the two, who do you think was stronger? Oh yeah, she-devil ruled the moment.

I had lost control to my she-devil, who was already screaming for me to get on my back and spread my legs wide open. I was on fire for Finn, _and by damn_ , I was going to have him, now—right now! I had made up my mind and threw my arms around his neck. I wanted to climb onto his huge, throbbing staff, but first I grabbed his black locks and pulled his head even closer to mine as I took control of the kiss.

My kiss was one born of frustration and need and hunger, and I kissed him then long and wildly. Control? A thing of the past. I was so out of control.

His arms were around me as my hands traveled over his shoulders and down his biceps. When we broke from that kiss, I moaned. I never wanted the kiss to end.

He nibbled at my ear, down my neck, and I shivered with pleasure. He spun me around, and now I had my back against the wall and he was bent, his large hands holding my breasts, pushing them up and together as he grazed first one nipple and then the other with his teeth. His voice was raw when he said, "I love yer tits, lass ... so big and yer nipples, ah, Ril-lea ... so hard." He took one nipple between his thumb and forefinger and pulled on it gently at first and then just a bit rougher, and I felt the sensation all the way down to my sex.

I was in need. I was wet and ready. His hands gently fondled my breasts, and he whispered words of praise. "Ye were made for me, lass ... ye know it ... say ye know it?"

"Yes," I managed to answer. It was all I could say. I was lost in a world of pleasure and simply gave over to it, bucking against him for more.

His cock was pressed into my belly as he worked me with his deft skill. Was that me reaching to stroke his shaft? It was, that was me ... touching him, running my hand over its considerable length. And oh, he felt good ... so good.

Sensations rushed straight through my hand around his cock and into my own sex throbbing with need. I made mewling sounds because I couldn't express the wondrous sensations I was experiencing.

He bent his head further to nibble a path from my nipples to my belly, and I wiggled and squirmed. Extreme carnal vibrations rocked my body.

There it was, his palm cupping the cleft between my thighs. I pushed into that palm, and he began shaking it with slow, deliberate measure.

Oh, my holy hot hell, I felt a particular sensation build, and my panting increased into a crescendo of gasps and moans.

One finger slipped inside and found a spot that sent me to my pinnacle. I had never experienced this level of an orgasm before. I knew my body was gearing up. Passion took over and consumed me. His erotic movements increased in pressure and speed.

Desire overtook everything else. I was about to give up my virginity, and by damn, it felt right, so right.

His finger skillfully played at my clitoris, and all at once I stiffened and held tight to his finger as the world around me exploded into bright lights and unimaginable pleasure. Release sent my body into convulsions around his finger and into his skilled palm.

I shuddered uncontrollably as this climax took me away. My fingertips tingled, my body detonated and I collapsed into his arms.

My eyes were closed, but I saw rockets explode. I saw particles of those rockets floating around me as the aftershocks shattered what was left of my limp body.

I heard his voice whisper hungrily, "Ah, lass ... ah, lass ... that's the way of it. Let it go, bonnie lass."

Let it go? I couldn't do anything else.

He held me throughout this experience. He whispered things into my ear that elicited moans from me as my body slowed its pleasurable convulsions, and I told him, unashamedly, "Do that again ... more."

He laughed, threw his head back, and laughed again, "Aye ... again and again. I don't mean to ever stop. Riley, ye are so responsive ... such a pleasure. I'm going to take ye now—"

BAM-BAM-BAM! Banging ... from another part of the house, and it wouldn't stop.

Someone shouting? What was that?

Finn cursed under his breath and turned his head away from me, and for a moment I was confused. What was that? Who was that?

He stepped away, and I immediately lost my balance. He was quick and hurriedly caught me, held me upright as he softly said, "I have ye, lass, steady, now." He blinked, and we were both dressed as though we had never been undressed. I knew of course that we had been, as my panties were wetter now than they had been before and I was still clenching against the shudders that continued to jerk my body.

The door knocker—that was what we had heard.

He cursed right out loud this time and stomped off. I watched his broad retreating back and sighed. I was still a bit dazed and centered on what I had just experienced.

_Whoa_ , my prude of a woman said in my head.

_Whoa,_ I chuckled to myself.

Life with Finn Dunraven wasn't going to be simple, of that I was certain ... _if there is to be a life with him, that is_.

_What_ , little Miss Prim asked in my head, _have you done?_ The answer came loud and clear.

The sound of a man's voice shouting broke into this thought even while the doorknocker was rammed over and over again against the hardwood. The voice seemed familiar, and, curious, I stepped out of the kitchen and followed Finn.

He was already down the wide hallway, and I scurried along to catch up and then stood quietly behind him as he reached for the large brass handle at the front door. I could see the shadow of a man through the stained glass center of the door and put the familiar voice with the familiar shape.

Finn turned just at that moment, gave me one of his winning 'I own the world' smiles, and his eyes were bright before he winked at me.

_Oh gosh, I was in deep—so deep_.

Daniel Whitley, who had been a good friend of my grandmother's and was a member of her coven, stood at the open doorway and nervously told Finn, as his eyes acknowledged me, "You have to come quick. She was hit just outside her gate ... come, come now."

"Who was hit?" Finn demanded through his concern.

I was silently asking the same question and gearing up to hear something awful.

"Alice Hopper," Daniel told him. Alice was also a member of my granny's coven. He looked past Finn and said to me, "Riley—I am so sorry. I know how close you two are. I'm glad you are back, girl. I know we sure could use your help, and Alice ... we have to get to her. She needs protection."

I stepped forward, distressed overwhelming me. "Aunt Alice? What happened, Mr. Whitley?" Alice had been my grandmother's dearest friend. I grew up thinking of her as my aunt, for the two couldn't have been closer had they been sisters.

"Out of nowhere ... she was hit ... hit and run, but Finn here knows, don't you, Finn—there was nothing ordinary about it. We have to hurry."

I was beside myself and grabbed Finn's T-shirt and made a mess of it. "Finn ... Finn, my Aunt Alice."

"Come on then. We'll meet ye there, Daniel." He took my hand and looked at me. "I don't want to tell ye everything will be all right. But I will do all that I can for her."

"Yes, yes ... let's go ... fast!"

I couldn't think, but I heard him say as we left the house, "And so lass, _it begins_."

~ Nine ~

ALICE HOPPER WAS only a bit younger than my grandmother had been when I lost her, and I wasn't prepared, really prepared for this, and all I could selfishly think was I just couldn't lose her as well. I had lost so much in my life already.

We arrived at the hospital in time to see them taking her inside on a gurney. I went forward, and Finn was right beside me, touching my arm and telling me she wasn't conscious.

Daniel Whitley was beside us, a ball of nerves and saying something about warning the others.

What was going on? What exactly had happened?

I was at a loss and just barely holding it together. This was too much. I had put in a call to Aunt Alice before I left New York and meant to visit with her this very morning. Someone had to tell me what had happened. I looked up at Finn.

Daniel said to the nurse who arrived to take a report that it had been a hit and run.

What?

The nurse left, and he leaned in close and said, "That story will do, but, Finn ... Riley, it was more."

Finn didn't wait to hear 'what more' but took command in the blink of an eye. He was everywhere. He talked to the nurse, who brought him the doctor as he asked. I saw their heads together, and then he walked to Aunt Alice on the gurney.

He touched her, and I saw her open her eyes.

I ran to Finn, who had his hand on her forehead, and I stroked her hand as I tried to hold back my tears. "Aunt Alice," was all I was able to say, and I was amazed that she actually took my hand and managed to squeeze it. She was deathly white.

"Ye will do, m'lady," Finn said, and I surmised they knew each other well.

She blinked, and I realized she didn't have the strength to speak. Oh, no. Oh, no. I couldn't believe this. She had to be okay. She simply had to be okay.

Finn's palm moved to her cheek, and he softly asked her, "There now, ye feel better, don't ye, m'lady?"

She sighed and blinked again. His hand went to her heart, and after a moment he asked, "Better still, eh?"

"Yes ..." she said, scarcely audible.

I sighed and laughed and cried and almost collapsed with my relief and my fear, both of which were colliding in that moment. Finn did this. Did he have the magic to heal?

"Did ye see who did this, m'lady?"

I wondered why he called her by the term used for the head of our coven. Was it because she had taken over the coven in my grandmother's absence and my neglect? Of course she had.

Aunt Alice looked anxious as she gazed into his concerned eyes and feebly shook her head. She was weak still. I looked at Finn, and for a moment I suddenly felt the room spin.

My love for my aunt Alice is deep, and it all came to a head in that moment. I'd almost lost her, and to what? Black magic? It wasn't an ordinary hit and run. I had sensed that from the start. I hadn't wanted to face it, but there was no getting away from it now.

All I could see spinning all around me were the wonderful afternoons I spent with her and my grandmother ... sipping tea, playing at simple magic ... laughing.

I had loved the way they would both welcome me home with a hug and home-made cookies. No, no, this was too much. I felt my knees begin to cave.

Finn had me in his arms, had me steady up against himself, and gravely asked me, "Will ye trust me in this?"

I nodded because I did trust him. I nodded because I couldn't speak.

All at once, I saw his eyes grow dark, so dark the green was scarcely discernible as he put his palm on Aunt Alice's abdomen, where I knew she was bleeding internally. I am a witch. I can't deny what I am, and now it told me with a force that Aunt Alice was still in trouble.

Finn's lashes brushed his fine cheeks, and I heard his breathing low and ragged as he spoke in a foreign tongue. I know many languages because I am a witch and the understanding and translation of languages is a gift, but I had no idea what he was saying.

When he opened his eyes, he smiled first at her and then at me. "She'll do." He looked at me and offered, "She still needs the operation they are prepping her for, but she will now be able to come through it." I realized that he could heal, but only up to a point.

Two nurses came up to us and smiled apologetically as they told us they had to get her to surgery. He smiled and said, "Don't ye worry now, m'lady, ye will do just fine."

She closed her eyes as they took her away, and I closed mine. Finn held me then, and I just stayed there in his arms until I felt someone come up beside us.

Daniel Whitley cleared his throat and said he needed to speak to us. So we huddled in a corner and heard what he had to say.

Finn told him to make certain he spoke to each member of the coven and then took me outside.

I waited for him to speak, and when he did he said to me, his voice filled with irritation, "I have made a grievous error, lass. I had hoped he was salvageable, but I was wrong. He has no soul. He is already damned. It is too late for him, and the time had come to distinguish his existence." His shoulders slumped slightly, and he looked away from me. "I had hoped ... I had thought it would not come to this."

"So this was Prio? But why? Why would he want to hurt Aunt Alice? She is older and poses no threat to him or his plans."

"She took your grandmother's place as head of the coven ... until she could talk you into taking your rightful place. She isn't a threat, but he obviously wants to make a statement."

"Yes, but Aunt Alice's magic is nominal ... she works with potions and herbs ..." How was I going to protect the ones I cared about? I had potent magic but had left it unused for so long. Would I be strong enough to come between Prio and my coven? And there it was. I had come to think of it as _my coven._

I knew that the magic inside me, the magic in my blood, had mutated. I didn't know how or why, but it had ... perhaps because I was approaching my twenty-fifth birthday? Granny had told me something about reaching my majority then.

Or perhaps the magic was blossoming because not only had I been threatened, but now my dear ones had been as well?

_My she-devil_ was coming into her own in more ways than one. She was opening doors in the back of my mind and shoving me inside. If it meant protecting my Aunt Alice and the others of the coven, well, then, 'bring it', I decided in that moment.

"Ye know why. Prio wants to get to ye. He wants to disarm ye, break ye, hurt ye, and he seems to think he can do it through those ye love." He shook his head. "He has become a thing ... a tool of the black magic he serves."

"My grandmother taught me that white magic is stronger than black magic." I answered.

"That is true, Riley, but black magic is ruthless and will come at ye when ye least expect it."

I thought about this and said, "Then we have to expect it at all turns and at all times."

"Aye. Prio was ever a bit too cocky for his own good. Mayhap we can use that." He shrugged. "He meant for her to die. He didn't realize we would step in so quickly."

"So he will hit again and soon, is that what you are saying?"

"Aye. He wants ye to back off. He won't give up until ye do."

"If I 'back off' he won't hurt the coven?" I asked, as this had to be a consideration.

"Not at first, but in the end, sure now. Ye don't think he will leave loose ends, do ye?"

"Right. Okay, so no backing off, but we have to protect the coven." I chewed my bottom lip and added, "Can the coven as a whole hurt him?"

He eyed me, and then suddenly his arms went around me and he hugged me close. "I never thought it would come to this. I should have seen ... I do not want ye in this."

"Unless you can see the future, you couldn't know," I answered and then peeked up at him. "Wait ... you can't see the future, can you?"

He gave a sharp laugh. "No ... would that I could." He stroked my lips with his thumb and said so softly I had to strain to hear him, "I didn't want this for ye, lass. I wanted ye well out of it. That is why I went to ye in New York. I thought we could conclude a deal with ye there and ye would be well out of this."

"I think that I am here now because it was meant. I have this feeling that ... I have to do something, but I just don't know what yet." I gave him a half-smile. "I have always had mixed feelings about Fate." I sighed. "So what now?" I said and moved slightly out of his hold. I needed to pace and did take a few steps back and forth in front of him.

"We pool our resources and find him."

"Pool our resources?" I scoffed. I know my mouth dropped open. "What resources do you think I have that can help find a person I can't even identify?"

"Oh, Riley, don't ye feel yer power deep inside ye burning to get out? There is a mana there ... I feel it flow inside ye in waves. Yer parents must have been the most magical of their kind, because ye have it fifty times more than yer grandmother did ... maybe more than that."

I stared at him, unsure and unable to speak to this. Finally I said most emphatically, " _Shit_ —Finn, how do I answer that? Yes, I feel the magic, but I'm not sure how to use it and don't want to unless I am in control of it."

He smiled ruefully, and then for no apparent reason he grabbed my shoulders and held on as though I were a lifeline. His voice was low and hoarse. "Oh, Riley, ye are a breath of fresh air." He then pulled away as though he wanted to bolt.

I trembled inside from the contact, from his smoldering gaze, from the deep feelings his words imparted to me. I didn't want to think how close I had come to losing Aunt Alice. I didn't want to think about the dangers that lay ahead. All I wanted was to make it go away just for a short time, just until I collected myself.

I wanted this man ... I wanted him to explore every inch of my mind and body and make me forget ... even if it was just for an hour. I needed to control my fears with a blackout and when he touched me and made love to me, everything else was blacked out.

His gaze was a lush jungle green, primal, and I stood, unable to say anything. He broke the silence by saying, "I mean to take ye home, because I know that is what ye want, and perhaps it would be a good thing put some distance between us right now." He looked away. "The trouble is, I'm thinking, lass, it won't be safe for ye to return and stay there alone until ye have learned what ye are and how to be who ye are." He took my hand and held on, and I couldn't believe I was the only one that felt the current that raced up my arm, through my body, and definitely back through my fingertips and into his hand.

I looked up at him, and the sensation he had instilled in me, that I was sure I had instilled in him, created a little satisfied smirk on my face. I saw that his breathing was oddly uneven, and then, damn it all, he ruined the moment and my pleasure.

He frowned and said, "I know I took unfair advantage of ye earlier. I hadn't meant to do that. I promised m'self I wouldn't until I thought ye were ready, and, Riley, ye are _so not ready_."

"What does that mean? Until I am ready for what? How—how do you know what I am ready for?"

"Riley, ye are magic and power, but ye have an unrealistic dream floating about in yer head. It is so clear that ye are all about 'forever anon'. It is there in yer violet eyes, yer eyes that make me want to take ye to bed and ravage ye. I can't, not while I see that look, because that look means _ye want it to last_. I can't give ye anything that will last. I can't promise ye what life won't allow. I'm an immortal, and _ye are not_. Plain and simple."

Plain and simple? Nothing was plain and simple any longer—not since the moment he walked into my life. "I see," I said, and actually, I did see. I didn't want to accept it and damn well meant to find a way around it, but I saw what he saw. _No forever_.

_It hit me in the gut_. It was the proverbial sucker punch because I should have seen this coming. I am a Pollyanna, and I think I blinded myself, hoping we would find a way to be together. We wouldn't. It hit me then, that we really wouldn't. He had known from the start that we had no future together. He had known from the start that I was a witch, yes, but a mortal one. He was attracted to me, but when he saw that I was all about 'true, lasting love' he had decided to run.

He had me at that first kiss. He had me the moment he told me in rough-edged words that he wanted to 'fuck me'. Now, in the light of day, he was backing off. I would make this easy for him, _very easy_.

I sucked in air and gave him a long look. "Fine. We will forget this morning's episode in the kitchen and move on." I turned away from him, and although a part of me was falling apart, another, stronger me came into being.

I needed some 'me' time. I needed to think this out. I wasn't going to find any easy solutions, because there weren't any easy solutions. Even so, I still needed to get away, alone, and sort out my mind and my feelings.

What I needed to do right then was walk.

I would take a mind-clearing, brisk walk the short distance into town.

Besides the heart-wrenching business of Finn Dunraven was the fact that Prio had tried to kill my Aunt Alice and would be coming after more of my coven.

I wish I knew in what form he had come after her. I couldn't believe that no one had seen a thing. Maybe someone saw something they couldn't believe and so didn't mention it to anyone. Maybe I could ask around and get at the truth. The locals who weren't magic had a healthy respect for it—those who had been here in Sutterville for a very long time, at any rate. Magic and witches had been a part of their heritage in one form or another for centuries.

"Where are ye going, lass?" Finn called after me, his tone edged with worry, his face drawn. He looked like he was going to object and follow. I think my glare stopped him.

Those green eyes that I loved were full with concern. Did his concern matter? Not at that moment. What kind of an answer did I owe him? I gave him the best smirk I owned and said, _"Out._ "

* * *

I walked the few blocks into the center of town and went into Big Jim's, where it was easy to make conversation with the locals. Everyone already knew that Aunt Alice was in the hospital, and everyone was upset about the possibility that a hit-and-run driver—perhaps a tourist—had done this and had left town.

Although everyone I spoke to was praying for Alice's recovery, no one had anything to add to what we already knew. A car had come out of nowhere, Daniel Whitney had told us, and had purposely run into her, knocking her clear up against her fencing. It was, I thought, a little miracle that she had survived long enough for Finn to get to her.

Two people had seen the car as it sped off, but they could not remember anything other than it was big, maybe an SUV, and dark-colored.

I took what I had learned and crossed the road to the sheriff's office. I noticed the mission statement had been moved from the cream painted brick building to a signpost at the head of the stairs. It read:

The Lincoln County Sheriff's Office strives to promote, preserve, and provide for the safety and security of all those who live, work and play here. We do so by providing professional, efficient, and effective law enforcement, correctional, civil process, and court security services with dedication, honesty, integrity, and compassion.

I smiled to myself. The sheriff had not added the word 'magic', but he could have, since he was a skilled warlock and a valuable member of my late grandmother's coven.

Ours was a small town, as were the other three towns under his jurisdiction, and Sheriff Bailey oversaw them all very capably.

We talked for a long while, and he told me that he had little more than what I had but that he would do all he could. I told him that I thought Dark Magic was behind it.

He looked at me and patted my shoulder. "Then be careful, Riley-girl, for if this is true ... you know, ye'll be a target."

I said that I would be very careful and started to leave. He came to the door with me and said, his voice low, "Remember now, you need to watch your back, because I think it will only get worse. Something or someone is hell-bent on destroying our coven."

I sighed as I stepped outside. The day had quickly changed; clouds had rolled in, and I felt the cool breeze pick up. It whipped at my face sending the scent of salt up my nostrils. My long hair blew around my neck, and I pulled some strands out of my mouth while I began rifling around in my large bag for a tie to hold it back with. I was in a hurry as I walked down the avenue. I wanted to get back to the hospital and Aunt Alice.

Finally, my hand came across the tie, and just then, I rounded the corner, and walked smack into a familiar stranger.

We both laughed as we recovered from our collision. "Riley Doogan," he said brightly. "I would say we need to stop meeting like this, but it wouldn't be the truth, so I won't say it. Any way I can meet you is just fine with me."

I smiled, and I was fairly certain my big leather satchel of a handbag must have swung into him hard as well, so I apologetically reached for and touched his firm forearm, noting that he looked good in his blue T-shirt and jeans. "Did I catch you with my bag, Whalen? I am _so_ sorry."

"No ... wait, yes, I think you did _, and_ I think you owe me an apology over coffee."

I pursed my lips at him and gave him an arched look. I wanted to get back to the hospital. I was sure Aunt Alice wouldn't be out of recovery yet, but even so I wanted to be there when she did get out. I said, "Can I take a rain check on that? I need to get to the hospital. A dear friend of mine is in surgery."

He frowned. "Yes, yes, I know. I heard about it and in fact just this minute called over there to see how she was doing. Mrs. Hopper was instrumental in helping me get settled here, and we have become friends in the last few months." He shook his head. "They said she was still in surgery. Come on then, a cup of coffee will do you good."

I relented. "Okay, but forgive me, I won't stay long."

"I understand ... just one cup then. We are agreed."

As he walked me across the street to the Main Street Coffee Shop, he said, "I didn't realize you two were close, but of course ... she was a friend of your grandmother's." He seemed to be saying this to himself so I didn't respond, and he continued, "It is really odd, you know."

"Odd? What is?" I had to be careful. He was a newcomer. He knew nothing of magic and covens.

"I was just talking to her the other day. She was setting up a date to have her book club have lunch at my place." He pulled a face and sighed. "You know, my jogging path takes me by her house, and I often bump into her when she takes her morning walk."

Book club? I smiled to myself. So that was what they were calling the coven these days. Smart. "Oh ... she was out for her walk?" I said, remembering she used to walk up to our home, which is no more than a mile or so from her place. "Did you see anyone in the vicinity?"

"No. Today a problem at the inn kept me from my run. I only wish I had been there ... maybe I would have been able to do something." he sucked in his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I hear it was hit and run but no one got a look at the plates."

"Wow, word travels fast. Yes, that is what I hear as well," I answered, still cautious.

The waitress told us to be seated wherever we liked, and we took a window table for two. He saw me seated and motioned for two cups of coffee.

I couldn't help but notice, as I had before, that Whalen Mackey was an attractive man. He was pleasant and sweet, and there wasn't a hint of magic around him. _He is safe and mortal_ , said Miss Prim, _and you should forget about Finn Dunraven and concentrate on someone like him_.

I immediately asked myself if I was I drawn to him—sexually drawn to him—and frowned over the answer. _No_. Here was a big, handsome hottie, but did he make me quiver and think of getting down and dirty?

No, no, he did not. I wondered if he was truly interested in me or just wanted to get me into bed, and I quietly tried scanning him. I wasn't flung backwards mentally as I had been by Finn when I attempted the same, but I was shut down. _What the hell?_ Was something wrong with me?

Well, this was interesting.

I knew now that I had not been able to scan Finn because, well, he was a powerful immortal with all kinds of shields, but here was a human. I was sure he was a human. So what was the problem?

This had happened once when I was in high school, and I later found out that the football jock who had made a pass at me had a steel plate in his head. I had not been able to read him either, but I hadn't needed to. He was one-tracked, and I hadn't needed magic to discover that.

I wondered if Whalen Mackey had a metal plate in his head. I couldn't just come out and ask him, so conversationally I said, "Football season has begun, but I can't get into it until the cool weather is really on us. Then Sundays it is all about football."

"Ah, a girl after my own heart," he answered.

The waitress appeared, and he asked if I wanted anything with my coffee. I shook my head and remembered the large breakfast Finn had made me chow down. Remembering Finn was depressing.

"I can't get enough of football," he continued, I suppose to fill in as I'd suddenly lost all train of thought and had gone silent. "I used to play in college till I got my head bashed in. Have a plate there where my brain should be," he joked.

Well, that was easy. I relaxed at once. "Oh, but, didn't your helmet protect you?"

The coffee arrived, and I sipped the brew and realized I didn't really want it, didn't want to be sitting there conversing with this nice and normal guy while my sweet Alice was undergoing surgery. All at once I knew I had to get back to the hospital. I forced myself to take another sip if only to be polite.

"My helmet was flung clear, and I guess I was lucky I didn't break my neck," he answered.

"I'll say," I said and sipped again. I had to go, but how without appearing rude? I smiled and asked, "Where are you from, Whalen?" I was only mildly curious. I couldn't place his accent, and although it was only slight, he did have one.

He frowned as though it wasn't something he liked to talk about. "California."

That surprised me. "Really?"

He chuckled. "Don't I fit the part?"

I eyed him speculatively. "As a matter of fact, in a way you do." I pushed my mug aside and said, "I am sorry, Whalen. Forgive me. I just can't sit here. I have to get over to the hospital and be there for my Aunt Alice."

He stood up, put some money down on the table, and said, "Of course. Look, I didn't see your car ...? Do you need a ride? I thought I'd go over there as well and pay my respects."

"Oh, that would be great," I answered. The hospital was a short ten-minute walk, but all at once I just needed to be there immediately.

A few moments later, he pulled his shiny Jaguar into a parking spot close to the hospital doors. He shut off the engine and hurriedly came around to open the door for me. A gentleman, I thought as he helped me out.

He still held my hand as we took a few steps away from his car.

Zap, eyes on me, and they were angry eyes. I felt him before I saw him.

Finn Dunraven, looking like the god of fury, stood with his arms folded across his massive chest, casually leaning into the corner of the hospital building, watching us, as though a challenge had been sent on the breeze.

Why this should make me blush was beyond my understanding at that moment. I should not be blushing. We might have had a ... gee, what should I call it? An incident in the kitchen? Yes, a momentary lapse of judgment, but we _weren't an item_ and, according to him, _never could be._

"Riley?" Whalen said and stopped me in my tracks, which I was happy about because the thought of actually walking up to Finn with Whalen hanging out at my side had my insides turning over.

"Yes?"

"I just realized the time. I can't stay. I have got to get back to the inn. I have a man I am interviewing for a permanent position as all-around handyman ... I don't know how I forgot that. It must be you. When I'm with you, I forget everything else."

I laughed and asked, "Do you mind telling me who has applied for the job?"

"Frank Tuft," he answered and smiled. "Do you know him?"

"Yes. He is wonderful. Always helped my grandmother. You can't go wrong with him as your all-around man, for he can do everything," I said and smiled warmly. I was pleased that I could help Frank in any way.

Whalen surprised me by giving me a hug and then took my fingers 'old world' style and put them to his lips. "Thanks, pretty lady. That makes it easy. I will be sure to tell him he has the job because of you." He hesitated and then added, still holding my hand, "Riley ... maybe this is the wrong time, but I'd love to take you dinner ..."

"It probably is not the best time," I answered. All I wanted to do was get away from him while Finn stood there glaring. It was ridiculous. I shouldn't have felt that way.

"Of course, but I don't give up easily," Whalen answered on a warm smile.

I returned his smile and said, "Good." Why did I say that? I didn't want him to pursue me. I didn't want this to go where he obviously was headed. I had to stop being so polite all the time. It could be construed as leading a guy on, and I didn't want to do that to Whalen. He seemed a decent sort.

I hurried off, all under the scrutiny of Finn, who never budged from where he leaned, arms still folded across his chest as he waited for me to approach. I wondered if he had been able to hear any of our conversation with what I was sure was his very fine hearing.

As I got close—so close that I felt his edginess, his displeasure—I found my breath hitched in my throat. I asked him, hoping to keep things where they belonged, impersonal, "Anything yet on Aunt Alice?"

"Oh, ye mean did Alice pass on while ye were out flirting up a new man?" he answered scathingly and stood tall. Oh, he was so rigid when he went erect like that. He towered over me. Big, beautiful, and full of wrath. I gasped. I hadn't seen that coming.

His bright green eyes were smoking with anger.

Like what? Why the hell was he angry? I gave him a really hard stare, at least I hoped it was really hard, and said, "I went to town to make some inquiries about the vehicle that hit Aunt Alice. I had hoped to find someone who saw more than Daniel Whitley had seen."

"And what then? Did ye make a new friend?" He indicated with a lift and a point of his strong jaw towards Whalen Mackey, now pulling his Jag away from the his parking spot. "Did he have _something_ ye thought ye might need?"

I turned a glowering look at him, but what I said was harsh and bitchy, even to my own ears. "I have no idea what you are insinuating, but what I do know is ... I can talk to anyone I please, can't I? Because you and me ... we aren't and never will be an item." I snapped my fingers in the air New York style and said, "And, as a matter of fact, he did have something I needed. He had information. So there." Why did I have to add that— _so there_? Really?

" _So there?_ Aye, so there indeed," Finn snarled at me. His eyes blazed as he stepped towards me. "Aye then, didn't take ye long to _move on_ , now did it, lass?"

The burning rebuke in his tone felt like a slap. Heat rushed into my head—wait, never mind my head, my entire person. I seethed with it. Furious, I couldn't stop myself when my finger came up, and I wagged it in his face, " _Move on_ _?_ So I made a new friend. You don't get to question me about what I do and who I befriend. Who I see has nothing to do with you. It isn't as though you have a say in the matter, _now is it?_ "

He had my arm in his large hand, and his lips were close to my ear as he pulled me up close, so close, yet our bodies had not yet touched. His scent was a musky vanilla, and it infiltrated my senses and made me weak. I was so damn weak for this man ... this immortal, who didn't want me because I would age in face and body while he remained young and beautiful.

_I should resist him_ , I told myself. _I should pull away from him._ Did I? _No_. I let him bend me. I let him grab a hold of my hair and bend me, mold me, until I wasn't sure where he began and I ended.

I should have smacked him and gone on my way, but aw, hell, that was what I wanted: him in a fury of jealousy.

It was as though no one else was around. The world faded as we stared into one another's eyes.

His voice was low, soft and full with an intensity that matched the intensity in his green eyes. A shiver raced up my spine as he continued to scowl and told me ferociously, "I'm thinking who ye flirt up has a great deal to do _with me_ whether _we_ like it or not. I'm not ready for ye to move on and forget me, and, Riley lass, I'm thinking _that isn't what ye want_."

My breath was stuck somewhere in my throat. I had to find it; I had to breathe. I had to think clearly. So I changed the subject, leaving this in the wind. "Is my Aunt Alice out of surgery?"

He must have seen the concern on my face, because all at once he was gently touching my cheek with one finger. "Aye, she is. They took her to the recovery room just a moment before ye pulled in with that scoundrel."

"He isn't a scoundrel. He is a very nice man," I snapped back at him. "How is she?"

"She is still sleeping, but I can tell ye that she will be fine, just fine."

"You said you can't see into the future."

"I can't see into the future. That isn't what I do," he answered vaguely. "But I do know she will be fine."

I was flooded with relief. I hadn't realized how distressed I was about the attack on Aunt Alice. This made my worst fears seem plausible. My grandmother might have suffered a stroke, but had Prio brought it on? I got myself together and looked up at Finn.

He feathered my cheek with his finger. Oh—he was driving me crazy. One minute he seemed to want me more than I could ever have hoped for, and the next ... well? The answer was a mystery to me.

I knew what _I wanted_ , but right then that wasn't important.

I needed to help the coven. My grandmother would want me to look out for them. In my heart of hearts, I knew that. She had been so very disappointed when I didn't want to join them.

I felt my eyes narrow as my thoughts bumped into each other. I looked at him hard. I wanted answers. No, I _needed_ answers.

He had managed to help Alice enough to get through the ordeal of her operation, so I asked him, "You healed her enough so she could ... survive the operation. I thank you for that. I owe you for that. Will you tell me how you did that?"

His stern face was a contradiction to his warm eyes. I couldn't fathom what he was thinking, but I knew in that moment I was lost to this man. Even then, standing in front of a hospital, the least romantic place I could think of, I wanted him for my own.

Like it or not, I knew he occupied all my thoughts. Trouble ahead if I gave myself to him. It stared me down and pounded me into the earth. But too late to think about that. In so many ways I had already given myself to him. Like it or not, I was in love with Finn Dunraven.

He was immortal, and I was not. I would grow old and die, and he would not. But right then, I wasn't old, was I? What I saw in his eyes was raw hunger, and it fanned the embers burning in my brain. Right then I was young and so very hot for him.

His green eyes were bright and almost calculating, though that wasn't the right word. It was as though he wanted to evade my question, and he knew he couldn't—not completely. He settled for giving me a partial answer. His voice was a quiet sigh. "I am able to heal humans ... as well as my own kind because of my ... let's call it heritage. Not all Rowans can heal. Her injuries would have caused her death, I healed her enough that she could survive the operation."

"Rowan? Oh ... like the tree? Is that the name of your realm?"

"Aye, and like the Wiccan, that tree is revered in our realm as well," he said quietly.

I don't know why I was holding my breath, but as I let it out and took a long whiff through my nose I realized that he had actually confided something about himself to me.

That was a plus, though not enough to banish the fact that he would live forever and I would get old and die. At that moment I think I would have agreed to be made into a vampire just to keep him for eternity.

Well, at least he trusted me enough to tell me a little bit more about himself.

I threw logic and the future out of the window and relaxed into him. The feel of his arm as it went around me was welcome—so welcome. He took my chin in his fingers and told me, "Riley ... what I said earlier wasn't said to hurt ye, just the opposite, but I see that it did."

"What you said was too much too late," I answered.

"I see that now, but here is the problem, I need to protect ye. Don't ask me why. I need to protect ye from everything, including m'self."

"I am capable, very capable of protecting myself," I answered and cocked a brow. "Maybe _you are wrong,_ Finn Dunraven. Maybe _I'm not_ searching for 'always and forever' with you. Maybe I am all about the 'here and now' and want to leave the future to itself."

I pulled out of his hold and walked away from him. I went inside to the information booth and asked if Alice had been assigned a room yet.

They gave me her room and said she wasn't awake yet. I smiled and told them I would just go up and look in on her.

I felt him watching me, so I purposely swayed my hips just enough to get his eyes on my ass. I glanced back at him in time to see that was exactly where he was looking. I smiled to myself, and my inner witch called out, _Yes!_

My smarter self, that prude who was so sure and steady, well, she shook her head and told me roundly that I was headed for a fall. Of the two voices in my head, I knew which one was right.

~ Ten ~

THE NEXT MORNING, having spent a restless, awful night alone at home because I told Finn I would not go back to his house with him, I was up early and in my grandmother's bedroom. I had thought I was all cried out over my loss. For weeks after I lost my grandmother, I would cry silent tears and sniff away gut-wrenching sobs whenever I allowed myself to understand that she was gone, really gone.

I thought that I was over it. I thought ... that part of grieving was done. I thought I was sobbed out, but as I sat on the floor of my grandmother's lovely warm room and sorted through pictures and keepsakes, I broke down once more.

I choked back my tears and crawled over to reach for the box of tissues on her nightstand. I looked around myself. Everything was just as she had left it, and damn, but I wasn't changing a thing. I just wasn't ready. I knew she was gone and never coming back, but as I saw all the familiar pieces of furniture, her lovely antique wall mirror, her little keepsakes, all the pictures ... so many pictures of my parents, of me, of her, and her friends in the coven, I knew, for a time longer at least, this had to remain as it always had been.

"Oh, Granny ... I miss you," I said to her walls, to the air, trying the words out loud to see if they would ease the pain. They didn't. Death was final. I had learned that early on when I lost my parents.

Okay, I didn't come here to reminisce. I came to her room to find her journal. She would want me to find it. What would she have done with it? Where would she have hidden it? Surely I knew all her little cubby holes? Why would she had kept a secret place even from me?

I suppose it was time to do a locator spell. My grandmother knew me. She knew I could and would use my magic. Perhaps she had been counting on it?

Granny used to tell me that I had more magic in one finger than she and her entire coven. The idea always set me back in my head. Why would I have so much magic? When I asked her for that answer, she was always evasive. She said she would teach me as much as she could, but I had a great deal inside of me that I would have to discover for myself.

I always assumed it was because my father had been what my grandmother's coven called a _Conji Warlock_ , which simply meant he was the leader of a very large coven in New York City. Not all children of witches are born to magic. Sometimes, Granny told me, it would skip a generation or two, and so covens had to have back-ups in the wings. I had been too young, and another warlock took over my parents' coven in the city. I knew who they were, but I had never participated. I don't know why it is, but of the two covens, if ever I thought of joining, it was my grandmother's coven I felt more comfortable with. They were so much more than magic. They were about community and how they could help. I liked that a great deal.

I stared at the picture of my parents spread out with so many others on the light tweed carpeted floor around me and sighed. I didn't look like either of my parents, who were both fair and blue-eyed. Granny's hair had turned white over the years, but she too had been blonde. I remember Granny telling me that I no doubt resembled an ancestor when I asked her where my black hair and violet eyes came from.

_Right_. Time for the locator spell I had learned from my mom when I was just a kid and lost one of my precious charms.

I pictured the journal and mentally spoke the word in Irish Gaelic— _An Modh Orduitheach_ —simply meaning _find_. I repeated this in English as well and then once again in Gaelic. Saying things three times is important in all magical spells.

Clanging rang in my ears, and I held my palms over them. It was so loud. _What the heck_ _?_ That had never happened before, and over the years, due to my forgetfulness, I had used a locator spell often enough.

I got up and tracked the source to the closet, a walk-in, pushed aside a rack of my grandmother's clothes, and there it was, something I had never seen before.

There was a door with what I knew was my grandmother's handprint emblazoned in red. Why had I never seen or felt this door before?

My inner witch whispered in my head, _Newly created to keep all but you out._ Huh. She was correct. I knew this hadn't been here before. I had often gone into my grandmother's closet to fetch her something or other.

Granny had spelled it before she died to answer only to me.

I pointed my wand, which appeared in my hand without me even being aware that I had called to it. I pointed it at the door and said firmly, "Open I decree, open for me."

The door made a creaking sound as it grated against the floor. It made me think of something out of a Grade B horror flick.

I smirked, and fully acquainted with my grandmother's tricky sense of humor, I wondered if she had purposely made it a bit spooky just for me. She always knew what would make me smile.

I stepped inside my granny's magical and hidden room, and my mouth dropped open.

* * *

I hadn't had a chance to assimilate and understand what I was looking at when I heard a pounding downstairs.

There was so much, so damn much packed into this room. The journal sat on a small, round, ornately engraved Rowan table.

The pounding wouldn't stop.

Pounding? It was as though someone desperately needed to get inside. I could hear terror in someone's voice. I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman as my name was shouted. Who was that?

I stepped out of the magical room, and even as I started to spell it closed and hidden, the door vanished. Right, I told myself.

My grandmother's hidden room would have to wait.

Someone sounded like they were frantic to get inside.

I rushed out of Granny's room and down the wide staircase that opened onto the large central hall. As I got closer I saw who it was: Mary Beth Higgins, another of my grandmother's friends. She was a dear, sweet, elderly lady, a few years older than my granny.

Surprised, I opened the door wide, and she nearly fell as she scrambled to get inside. In her haste, she tripped over her own feet, and I caught her and held her frail bones as I helped her to steady herself.

"Close the door, child ... hurry ... close the door," she said hoarsely and in a state that was foreign to me. I had never see any of my grandmother's friends as frightened as she was right then.

Her usually neat steel-gray hair, which she wore in soft waves to her shoulders, was a tangled, windblown mess. Her faded blue eyes were large with ... wait, that wasn't just fear. It was downright terror.

Her pretty knit jacket of navy blue was torn at one shoulder and sleeve as though sharp claws had raked through them.

I was taken aback but instinctively knew what to do. I put a comforting arm around her and said, "Miss Mary Beth, come, we'll sit together and have some tea, and then you can tell me what it is that has you so ... upset."

I led her down the hall while she held onto me and caught her breath.

She started to speak, but I patted her arm and stopped her. "There, there. Not yet. Let's get comfortable first. Granny always said tea gave everything a better light, and it does."

She allowed me to see her seated at the round oak dining table. I moved away to put the kettle on before returning to her and pulling my chair closer to hers.

"I was on my way here. I ... after what happened to Alice yesterday, I knew I had to come to you and talk, Riley. We had taken a vote, and the vote was about you. Some of us think you have no choice, you need to fill in for your grandmother in the coven ... at least for a time. Not everyone agreed. We took a vote, and it would have been unanimous except for Henry. He says you don't want to be in the coven, and we shouldn't force you. He says you have a right to live your way." She sighed heavily. "He is right, I suppose."

"I understand, but your numbers are depleted, and you need thirteen to be at full strength," I answered.

"Yes, we need our coven number at thirteen. It is written."

"Okay, we'll talk about that later," I told her as I got up to the whistle of the kettle. I poured the hot water to brew with my grandmother's special blend in the pot and set up a plate of butter cookies and muffins.

"There," I said as soothingly as I could muster with my insides doing flip-flops. Something awful was going on. "Now, take a breath, take a bite of Jim's delicious butter cookies, and tell me what frightened you on the way here." I purposely gazed at her jacket as she removed it.

She sat up straight and sighed long and heavily. Then she reached for a muffin, slowly sliced off a piece and popped it into her mouth, chewed quietly, and swallowed before she was able to look me in the eye and smile. "That is exactly what Maddy would have done." She sighed. "You have a natural leadership in you, and you are calm and collected."

I sipped my tea and gave her a wink. "Flattery will get you almost anything. Now, Miss Mary Beth, what frightened you?"

She played with her fingers. "I ... I ..."

"Okay, easy. Let's start with your pretty knit jacket. Ruined now. What did that to it?"

"I ... I ... you will say I am a foolish old woman. You will say it must have been a wild dog and that I couldn't have seen what I saw." She hesitated and looked down at her teacup and away from me.

That made me frown. "Why would you ever think I would think such a thing?" I touched her hand and told her, "Miss Mary Beth. You know better. My grandmother would have believed you, and I will believe you. Just take your time and spit it out."

She grinned apologetically at me. "You are so like her in some ways ... and yet, so different. The coven meant so much to her, and yet, don't quite approve of it, do you? You don't like using magic ...?" She did eye me then pointedly.

"Miss Mary Beth, I loved what my grandmother stood for. I loved that she used, that you all continue to use, magic to help people. I don't disapprove at all. How could I when it is really a large part of who I am? I just wanted another way. I wanted to see what life would be like living with as little magic as I could while I used my skills—my education—to start a business. Do you understand that?"

She touched my hand again and said earnestly, "Yes, yes, I do, but I just wanted to hear it from you before I ... tell you what happened and what my suspicions are."

"Good, now, out with it," I tried to make light of it and get her to feel more comfortable.

"As I mentioned, I was on my way here to talk to you. We ... so want you to take your grandmother's place as head Wicca in our coven, and I was chosen ... with Alice in the hospital, to talk to you. She is the better choice, as she was your grandmother's closest friend."

I was beginning to lose patience. I don't like going around and around. "Miss Mary Beth, let's get to the heart of the matter. What ripped your jacket?"

"I thought it was all so real. I know now I shouldn't have. There were signs I should have picked up on. It was all wrong ... something about the boy was all wrong. But there wasn't time to think, you see. I saw a boy. He jumped out in front of my car just as I turned to enter your driveway. I thought I hit— _killed him_. I rushed out of my car, and when I got to the front of it, no one was there." She worried her fingers against one another and then looked at me before she closed her eyes. "None of us will be safe if this monster can break through our personal shields and cause us to have such illusions."

"What happened next?" I had to show her that I wasn't fazed by this. I was absolutely screeching in my head, but she needed someone to tell her everything was going to be okay. I needed more information.

"I ... I felt something—someone and, Riley, the power made the air pulse in waves. It was behind me. I was so afraid, Riley, so completely helpless and afraid. I couldn't even turn to look to see who or what it was. I ran for my car door. Just before I was able to get inside, it got a hold of my sweater. I screamed and managed to break free as its claws— _claws, Riley_ —tore through the knitting, and I slammed the door."

I said nothing for a moment as I digested this. "Okay," I finally offered quietly. "Did you find that you were relatively safe once inside your vehicle? Did whatever it was that attacked you ... retreat? Did you see it then?"

"Yes ... no ... I mean, it didn't retreat. I couldn't see it. There was a gray fog hanging around the car, and I think it was hiding in the fog. I could still sense it nearby, but I was able to race away and onto your drive before it could get to me in my car."

A gray fog, like the one I encountered just before the tentacles attacked.

She sighed heavily and then continued, "If it hadn't been for that nice Finn Dunraven taking the time to ward all our homes, I don't know what I would have done." She shuddered and looked at me, her eyes urging me to give her an answer. "Riley ... why is this happening? We have never gone up against the Dark, and I'm not sure we are equipped to handle it."

I ignored her question because quite frankly I didn't have the answer. I didn't want her to know that. I wanted to reassure her. I said, "So you sensed it near, but it couldn't actually stop you when you drove here. Once you got onto my warded land, it was held at bay?" I needed all the facts.

"That's right ... but, I was so frightened, and you took so long to come to the door that I nearly had a heart attack while I waited."

I reached over and patted her shoulder. "But you are fine and safe now, and when you are ready, I will drive you home."

"What are we going to do, Riley?"

"Go on the offensive," I said, not sure at all what that meant but sure that was what we had to do. We couldn't sit back and wait for this thing to gain power and pick us off one by one. No. We had to find its hiding place, didn't we?

To do that, we needed Finn.

~ Eleven ~

NOTHING WAS GOING to deter me from getting Mary Beth home. I drove as she tried to relax in the passenger seat beside me. I half expected something to go wrong and told myself I was ready for it. It is amazing how much adrenaline ran through me as I thought of taking on this creature with the Dark Magic.

All, however, was quiet, and I was pleased to see that Mary Beth had regained some of her usual placidity. Her face had been ashen, but some of the color had returned to her cheeks, and that too made me breathe with relief.

I saw her into her house and made her promise to call one of her friends to come and stay the night with her. "Now, remember," I cautioned her as I started out the door, "when you are out and about in town, you have to use the power you know you have to discern 'fact from fiction'. Take your time with it. Illusion is a dangerous thing, and this monster we are facing uses it to its full advantage. He wants us terrorized. We won't be—right? Stay calm, and work it out in your head before you act. Okay?"

"Yes, yes, I know that now. It won't catch me unawares next time," she said with some determination. "But, my dear ... how will you get home?"

As if in answer, my cell rang. I smiled to myself and got it out of my jean pocket, looked at the caller ID, and said, "Hello, Finn Dunraven. What do you want?"

"I'm outside waiting on ye," he answered.

"How the heck did you know where I was?" I opened the door wide, and sure enough, there he sat in his silver Gullwing Mercedes. He had pulled up to the curb and parked on the wrong side of the road, cocky as ever.

"I came into town to sit and have a chat with John Bailey, but he was at home and told me to come over and have lunch with him. I was just leaving his place when I saw ye in Mrs. Higgins car and thought ye might be needing a ride. Is the she all right then?"

"You were with Sheriff Bailey? Anything happen?"

"No, nothing new, but it was time for the two of us to have a heart to heart," he said, being annoyingly vague once again.

"A ride ... yes, okay ..." I said, waving myself off from Mary Beth as I stepped away from her porch, down the steps, and the flagstone walkway to the curb. I clicked my cell off, put it back in my pocket, and walked directly up to Finn, who now had his arm hanging over his open window.

I bent, and he immediately reached for and took my hand. I pulled it away. "Is that you trying not to make a move on me?" I asked. I can be cocky when I want to be.

He ignored the question. Didn't even blink. He just said, "Ye look frazzled, lass," his face and tone full with concern. "When I left early this morning all was well. What has happened since?"

"Wait—what do you mean when you left this morning?"

"I parked myself on the couch in your living room. Ye were determined to stay in yer own home, and I was determined to keep ye safe."

What did I say to this man? I couldn't very well say, 'how dare you?' when he was honestly doing all he could to protect me. I decided to narrow my eyes in warning but not take on the subject just then.

Instead, I took on the immediate threat and told him, "We have a problem." I had to admit a big part of me was happy to know he had camped out downstairs, and I knew I was so damned happy to be here with him now.

Why did his presence make me feel balanced? I didn't know. Why did I feel safer the moment he was near? What was it about Finn that made me feel whole when I was with him, as though finally I had found the yin to my yang, and I can't believe I am using that expression because I hate that expression.

His caring, his gentleness, his honesty were at such variance with his hard-core 'my way or the highway' attitude. We didn't really know each other, there wasn't the 'knowing' that comes with time and shared experiences to keep us drawn to one another, and yet, instinctively I trusted him. And that trust was laced with something else, something primal deep inside me that swept through my blood, tingled in my belly and demanded release in the sex between my thighs. Was that oversimplifying what I felt? Oh, yeah.

Was he going to be my Waterloo? I wasn't sure, but I kind of thought so. I have a habit of always running with my instincts, and all my instincts were making me charge his way.

He caught my hand this time and put it to his lips. "Don't overthink it, Riley. Don't worry about tomorrow. Remember what ye said to me earlier that maybe we are about the 'here and now'. I have thought about it, and that'll do, won't it?"

It was as though he could read my thoughts. Damn, he couldn't, could he? And he said on a laugh, making me wonder again if he just had. "It's yer eyes, lass. They speak yer thoughts. _No_ , rest easy then. I can't read minds ... though I know _ye try to_."

The blush swept into my cheeks. _He knew_. He knew I had tried to scan him when we first met. I answered, my chin up, "I don't read minds per say."

"Not mine, at any rate," he answered and then frowned. "Get in, love."

I went around to the passenger side and got inside. He smiled at me and without another word started off.

What was happening between us? I knew that we had no future. I knew in the end that fact alone was going to break me, yet I couldn't stop wanting him.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, husky sound that tingled every nerve in my yearning body. "Ah then, come, lass, the time has arrived. Tell me all about it. Take yer time, and don't leave anything out. What occurred to make ye escort Mrs. Higgins home?"

Oh, holy shit, where did I start? Should I tell him about my grandmother's magical hidden room, which I had to get back to as soon as I could? Did I trust him _enough_?

* * *

As it turned out, I found I did trust him enough, though I took a minute to stare without really seeing the passing scenery on the way home. All at once, I blurted it all out, everything that had happened that morning, from me finding Granny's hidden room to Mary Beth Higgins terrified banging at my front door.

I took a breath and noticed that we had driven past my driveway. I frowned and pointed as I turned back to look at him, "Er ... where are you going?"

He made a disgusted sound and said, "Ye don't think I'm going to let ye spend another night in yer place. I was damned uncomfortable on that couch, and I didn't get a bit of sleep. I kept watch all night."

"You did? What, did you do _like a patrol_?" I teased.

"Never mind." He grinned wickedly. "I didn't have to do a patrol because, lass, I do have m'way of managing things."

I eyed him. "Ah, did you use an orb to watch the grounds?"

"I have one, aye ... but I didn't need it," he answered noncommittally and then relented. "I don't know what it is, Riley, but we have a connection, and that connection allows me to 'feel' when ye are in immediate danger. So I knew ye were safe above-stairs, and I was on hand if anything were to make ye feel ... unsafe."

"Huh," I answered and then added, "You successfully warded the grounds. This Prio person couldn't follow Mary Beth Higgins once she was on my land, so I guess your wards are working."

"Right. But what ye don't know is that this Prio, who isn't a person, but a thing, is capable of a great deal, and I'm not taking any chances with ye. Last night had me working out all kinds of scenarios where ye might be hurt."

I gave this some thought. He was right. I didn't know what I was up against. We didn't know if this slithering creep could find a way to get past his wards. Maybe I should agree to stay with him at Dunraven? I chewed my lip and finally said, "Well, okay, but ... but, at least take me home to get my grandmother's journal."

"That can wait. Yer grandmother's journal is safe enough as it is specifically spelled to allow _ye alone_ access." He gave me a quick, thoughtful look. "Before we do another thing, I need to take ye somewhere else ... and have done once and for all."

I gazed at him for a long moment before I asked, "Where?"

"To that stretch of land I want—no, that I need more than ever—to buy from ye."

"Why is it so important to you?"

He eyed me and softly said, "Should I be trusting ye with m'secrets, Riley? I'm not one to give over m'trust easily."

"I have trusted you with mine. I think that says a lot, don't you? No one outside the coven knows that I am a witch, _but you do_ ," I told him and realized how true this was. I hadn't even told Betty. How could I? Oh and by the way, Betty, I'm a witch ... here let me show you? _I don't think so_.

He grinned. "Right then, wise little puss. But first I need to take ye there so ye can have a feel for it yerself and understand."

"Understand what? Is there something there I wasn't aware of?"

"Aye, there is. And ye aren't aware of it because it wasn't there before ... at least not for hundreds of years," he answered solemnly.

I didn't have a ready response to this, so I kept quiet. He eyed me sideways and said, "I'll pay ye more than a fair price ye know."

"I don't need the money you know," I returned, annoyed by this.

"I know ye are little Miss Independent doing it on yer own and yer way, but ... this time, this is different. When ye sell me this piece of land, and I'm thinking, knowing ye like I do now, ye will sell it to me, it will put ye in a position to open another shop without taking on a loan. I know ye and Betty had discussed it, as yer grandmother mentioned it to me. This sale will give ye a pocketful of working capital, and I tell ye what, Sutterville could use an upscale infant-wear shop." He grinned broadly, and I had to smile.

What he had just said was true, very true, and it was a very tempting incentive. A new shop that we could open without putting a drain on our present one would be heaven-sent.

As if on cue, my cell phone rang and made me jump. We eyed one another worriedly.

I dragged it out of my pocket. It was Betty. I closed my eyes. I had promised to call her as soon as I was settled in, and I hadn't yet. I answered with, "Betty, I am so sorry. So much has been happening that I haven't had a chance to breathe."

"Ha, I can imagine. So tell me, did Finn Dunraven manage to bump into you in Kennebunkport?"

"He did." I couldn't help but smile. She was too excited to shoot down. "You awful woman."

"Am I? Am I really? I don't think so. In fact, if a hunk like that wanted to know where I was stopping for the night, I would pray that my friend would tell him, _so I did_."

"Well, we'll talk about that another time," I told her. I could see Finn was enjoying himself, for I knew he could hear the conversation.

"Oh ... he is there right now, isn't he?" said Betty.

I laughed. "Well, he is, as a matter of fact."

"Holy crap! Okay ... this is so great," she spluttered.

"Is it? Well, he is driving me to see the land he wants to buy from me, so don't read anything into it, you silly woman," I had said that on purpose, and my tongue went into my cheek as I saw Finn's smile vanish. He didn't like what I'd just said, not one bit.

She laughed and, not the least embarrassed, said, "Give him a hug for me and tell him he has my blessings for anything and everything he wants to ... um make a deal with you about."

"Oh yeah, sure, like I'm going to do that," I answered.

As though she could see my face through the phone she answered, "Come on, Riley, if you don't give him one for me, give him one for you." This amused her so much that she gave in to mirth for some moments before we said our good-byes. She added before hanging up, "Riley, time to go for it. If you aren't in the game, you can't win."

She said that every single time she bought a lottery ticket, which was more often than not, and it always made me grin and shake my head.

I hung up, and Finn glanced at me. "She is a good friend, but even friends, when they don't really know the facts, can give you the wrong advice."

"Oh?" I cocked a look at him. "And what advice do you think she gave me that was wrong?"

"I don't think. _I know_. I could hear her tell you to go for it. I'm not sure why she thinks it is time, but I'm fairly certain you need to think long and hard before you do go for it. I'm not the right one for you, Riley. You are all about white picket fences and swings and babies. And I am all about never going to happen."

"I don't like white picket fences. They need painting, and as for swings, I am more a roller coaster girl. _Babies?_ Not sure about babies. I'm not saying you are who I will go for. I don't know, but when I go for someone, I'll be the one who decides who, what, and when," I answered. From his stolid, set expression, I could see he didn't like my answer.

I didn't have to wonder really what he was thinking because he made a low growling sound before he said, "Do ye think that big buffoon, Whalen Mackey character, will give ye what ye need? Is that what ye are saying?"

_Oh, he was impossible_. Why are men so thick? Why don't they understand what we are clearly trying to tell them? "Oooh, you are so annoying," I told him.

"And he ... this Mackey fellow, he isn't annoying?"

"He doesn't have anything to do with this, _does he_? _You_ said _you_ weren't for me. Okay, I get it."

"That doesn't mean, lass, that ye should take the first man that comes along," he snapped, giving me an exasperated sideways glance.

"Take the first man?" I couldn't believe him. "Is that what I'm doing? I have coffee with a new friend, and what are you thinking—that I will jump into bed with him?" I shook my head.

"Ye had coffee with him? Well, did ye now?"

"Yes," I answered. "So?"

"Just when did ye meet this guy?" His tone was rough, his eyes smoldering, and the car came to an abrupt stop as he turned on me. " _Just when_ , Riley?"

What was going on here? "That is none of your business, Mr. Immortal. What are you doing? Your words say one thing, your eyes and touch another. You tell me you want to fuck me every which way you can, and then you say you aren't for me, but look at you! You don't want to let me go, and don't say it is because Whalen isn't right for me. He is a very nice guy, working hard and making a good living, and besides which you can't choose who I should be with, can you?"

His answer was to sweep me into his arms.

His mouth was on mine, crushingly sensual as his tongue solicited a response from me and got it. Against my will, my tongue joined with his and I pressed my body into his. He molded me to him, and it felt perfect and right.

He pulled away from that kiss, and his voice was a hoarse whisper in my ear, "Ril-lea... I want ye more than I have ever wanted any other woman. I just don't want to hurt ye, and I am afraid that I will."

Breathless, I took a moment and collected my words. I told him softly, "Okay, you made your case, and I accept," I told him. "If I get hurt, _it will be on me_." Was that me speaking? That couldn't be me. I liked 'safe'. I liked 'sure and steady'. _I did want_ forever. He was right about that. I didn't want to go from relationship to relationship. I didn't want a one-night stand or a long affair that would leave me empty when it was done. But more than that, I _wanted him_.

His breath hitched, and his eyes blazed. "On ye, is it?" he said. "That wouldn't be fair, lass. Ye are but a child. I've lived a long time ..."

A car's bleating as it went by made us look away from each other and jump guiltily away. I saw that it was a convertible full of high school kids and smiled ruefully.

We both looked at each other and laughed. I shook my head and told him, "It will be all over town by morning that Riley Doogan and Finn Dunraven were making out in the middle of the road," I teased.

" _Good_ ," he answered. "Because, Riley ... I am staking my claim to ye. I shouldn't, I know I'll have the devil to pay for this, but I can't seem to stop m'self. I'm not even sure I could stay away from ye _if ye told me to_ , but if ye tell me to back off, lass, I will try."

"We'll have to see about 'staking claims', but I am not telling you to back off," I answered in a voice that was low and sexy. Was that my voice? Was that me inviting him to do whatever he wanted with me? When had I become so submissive?

"I am not one to share what is mine, and, _Ril-lea_ ..." he said with that lilt I loved so much, "I'll make no apologies, because ye have given me cause to think ... lass, ye are mine."

I gave him cause? When did I do that? His? Oh, hell, yes, it was true.

Damn, but he was turning me into a 'risk taker'—and I liked it. "You know, Mr. Dunraven, that works two ways, don't you? The bit about 'mine.'"

He took me into his arms then, and I suppose you could say sealed our discussion with one of his mind-numbing kisses _. Holy shit_ _!_ I wanted more of that ... so much more. I was physically shaken when the sound of his moan swept through me, and then I almost begged him not to stop when he pulled away from me.

~ Twelve ~

I OPENED MY eyes in time to see him catch his breath as his nostrils flared like a stallion about to claim his mare. I watched while he got himself under control. How did he do that? I hadn't been able to do that when it came to him. I didn't want him to be able to either.

He visibly restrained himself by returning his attention to the road, and he put both hands on the wheel. I could see what it took for him to turn away from me, and that fueled my fire. Fire? Hell, I was panting like a dog ready to roll over at his command.

He turned his face back to gaze at me but still held the wheel in his tight grip. I saw the flames expand in his dark green eyes and knew he was experiencing the same strength of desire that I was.

It occurred to me that one might lick one's lips for that special piece of cake, or favorite chocolate, and what I was experiencing was beyond licking my lips.

The sensation he engendered in me made me want to grab the entire cake off the table, take it, hold it, taste, relish, and devour it. Did he feel the same?

His voice was tinged with a hungry sound. I saw the expression flit over his face, the expression of a man who can see, smell, and feel what he wants but believe is just out of reach.

The knowledge that I was what he wanted and needed was exciting and had shards of electric zaps scurry through my system.

His hoarse voice skittered through me and left me wanting his touch. "Riley, m'own wee lass, ye have no idea what it is taking out of me to keep m'hands off ye at this moment. I want to push ye down on the seat here and now and lick ye between yer thighs, deep inside till ye scream out m'name. I want to undress ye and touch yer soft skin and watch your violet eyes glitter while I ram m'self into ye ... I want ye in more ways than I can name but mean to show ye and soon."

"What is stopping you from taking what you want now, right now?" Was that me—inviting him to use me as his buffet meal? When had I become so bold?

"What is stopping me _is ye_. Don't ye know, ye are the only one that could?" He frowned darkly, "Riley ... first, I have something to show ye because it is one of the things that stands between us. I need to show ye what this is all about—what stands between us. And I can't have ye thinking I seduced ye to get what I wanted. Wanting ye is a thing apart."

"I tell you what, Finn Dunraven. You are one confusing dude." I was irritated. So irritated. He was driving me crazy. I was ready for a full frontal assault. My never- used body wanted him to start using it. My flesh and blood were screaming for him—all of him. Waiting like this was sticking me in limbo. I didn't want safe, and I didn't want limbo. I was ready, so ready for the real thing, come what may.

He gave me a wicked smile but didn't answer this as he continued the short drive to his estate. With scarcely a flick of his lashes, the gates of Dunraven opened wide.

Watching Finn perform such magic without potions or even a chant was something that called to me on another level. All my life I have felt this uniqueness when in the company of other witches. The magic inside of me has always been a glowing power, ever ready to be called up and used. I told Granny about it once, after I turned eighteen. The power inside of me seemed suddenly to burst with new growth. I attributed it to my birthday being on Halloween. Weird, right?

At any rate, I never got a satisfying answer. Instead, she hugged me tightly and said, "One day soon we'll talk."

That 'talk' never came, and teens have a way of finding a great deal to do. I was no exception. Happily, and in spite of my secret, I got on well at school and was popular and busy. The 'talk' never came about. As I wasn't really interested in joining a coven or using 'special magic', I never thought anything about it until just before her death when I asked her again about the unique magic I knew was growing inside of me. All she said was that I had time, as it would not fully develop until I was twenty-five.

Here is the thing—I have found over the years when in a 'difficult' situation that a blink and a thought would attain the same results as the pointing of my wand. I love the feel of my wand and use it as a crutch more than a tool, but I don't really need it. Also, there are other oddities about me, but now she was gone and I would never learn what these things meant or where they came from.

I put these thoughts aside as Finn veered his roadster off the main drive and into a narrow opening. This turned out to be a long, hard, dirt road.

I arched a brow at him, but he wasn't paying attention. He seemed intense as he steered and took the upward climb through the woods. The road was rutted, and he slowed to spare his Mercedes and my rump.

I watched Finn more than I should, I know. I couldn't seem to help it. I loved looking at him, and right then his profile looked grim. It worried me. We went around a bend in the road where the dirt road stopped abruptly. Before I could say anything, he lifted his finger and a clearing appeared. Ah, he was skilled in concealment spells! My grandmother's coven often laughed at one another as they attempted to perfect this spell with little success.

I, however, had found that ability when I was a teenager and from time to time had discovered it to be a handy little thing.

He had my full attention because it is one thing to create an illusion and hide an apple from detection and another thing to hide an entire acre of land or a house or ..., and he had done this with a flick of his finger. I was impressed.

In the center of the grassy clearing, which was surrounded by tall rowan trees, was a huge, I mean, really large gray boulder with a flat top, almost as though it had been sculptured like that. A stool for a giant, I thought and smiled to myself.

He drove into the clearing and stopped again. Immediately I felt drawn to the boulder. It seemed to pulse with life. I said and realized that I was whispering, "What is that? Holy shit—just what is that? Do you feel the pull?"

"Aye, I do, love," was all he said as he parked his Mercedes and sat staring at it.

I wasn't sure what to say, and I could see him struggling with himself, so I waited for him to be ready to explain. He didn't. It was most frustrating, because instead of telling me what was going on, he got out of the car. I really didn't want to get out of the car till I knew what the boulder was—what it all meant; however, he bent and gave me his hand as he opened my door. "Come with me, Riley."

His voice was imperious, alpha, curt, and cool. I didn't like that, and I thought about telling him so, but his body language was nothing like his voice. He took my hand, kissed my fingers, and added softly, "Would that I could squirrel you away until this is over."

"Until what is over?"

"My fight with Prio," he said on a heavy sigh as I got out of the car, and then he pulled me in close.

"Your fight with Prio is my fight with him. He has aimed his arrow at me and mine with deadly results. I am so in this fight, Finn."

"Aye, I know, but I wish it otherwise," he said and started walking towards the boulder, my hand still tucked in his.

I kept up with him. We were in the center of the twenty acres he wanted to buy from me. This was our Rowan Woods. I hadn't walked here often, but I couldn't remember there ever being a grassy knoll like this or a sculptured gray boulder here before.

As though reading my mind—he says he reads my expressions—he said, "This appeared last week."

Ah, I thought.

He stopped and stood in place, pulled me in as close as he could, put his free hand to my face and said, "I'm not sure what it is ye are doing to me, Riley lass, but I don't want ye out of my sight from here on. Do ye ken?"

I felt so small and safe when in the arms of this giant of a man—this immortal man.

I hoped I understood. I nodded.

Abruptly the tenderness in his demeanor was shed, and he was all business, a no-nonsense businessman. I almost laughed at the suddenness of the change.

We walked the remaining distance to the boulder, which was now making my vision blur with its resounding vibrations, and I felt myself sway. His arm went around my waist, and he said, low and concerned, "Steady, lass ... steady." His eyes burned with self-recrimination. "Damn it, damn me. I should have known ... is it making ye ill?"

He was so upset with himself. This man surprised me at every turn.

"No, no ... just a moment's disorientation," I told him.

"Aye then, take a moment, breathe in from yer nose ... aye ... let it out ... let yer body have a moment to find its way to the Sacred Stone. Aye ... meld with it ... just allow it to know ye."

Invisible and soft like a gentle breeze, something enveloped me. It was as though the boulder had a life and that life was taking my measure.

Apparently it approved, for it withdrew, and the pulse that had made me sick a moment ago was gone.

He grinned like a boy who had just been given his favorite toy to play with. "Aye, the Sacred Stone approves of ye."

There—he had said it again. The Sacred Stone. I cocked a look at him and asked, "Sacred Stone?"

"Aye ... come," he said and led me right up to the thing, and suddenly I couldn't help myself as my hand went out and I pressed my palm to it.

I expected cold. It was a cool day, and it was after all a stone ... stones ... rocks, boulders—cold, right? Wrong. This thing was hot, but it didn't burn me. Instead I was filled with warmth, and oddly enough, I felt a certain acceptance, no, that wasn't the word, but how could I think a big old rock could offer friendship? Yet, that was what I felt.

"I don't understand," he said, puzzled. "The Sacred Stone is behaving as though ye are a valued Rowan."

I was nervous, and it displayed itself in a short sound akin to a hysterical laugh. He frowned at me and said, as I had dropped my hand, "Touch it again."

I did so, and this time the feeling of 'friendship' was stronger. The next thing I knew, Finn put his palm on the boulder next to mine, and I heard, "Welcome, my lord."

The boulder had spoken ... not out loud but in my head. I turned a sharp look at Finn. Yes, of course he had heard it as well.

"I am honored," Finn said. "To present you with—"

"Riley Doogan of Huxley," we both heard in our heads.

"Just Riley Doogan," I answered.

"Not just ... not just," said the stone.

"What can ye mean, Stone of the Ages?"

"The time is not now," the stone answered, and this time its voice reverberated all around us.

"Wow," I said to Finn. "What the hell?"

"Riley. This is what I wanted to show you ... and I had no idea the Stone would speak. It rarely does, and then usually only to the queen." He shook his head. "Something momentous has just occurred, but I don't know why or how."

"What do you mean?" Momentous. Was that a good thing?

"Never mind that now. Right now ..." All at once he had me in his arms, and it was as though he had been starving while gazing at a plateful of food. The damn broke, and his mouth was on mine. His kiss was all consuming, and I gave myself over to that kiss.

He broke away from our kiss, and his voice was that of a man in pain, "Och, aye, Riley ... I ... I don't know what is happening to me. When it comes to ye, I can't think straight."

"Maybe straight isn't always the right way to go," I answered boldly and couldn't believe the strength with which I spoke. It was as though my heart slammed through my voice-box.

He groaned, and his teeth grazed my lips and then gently nipped. "Mine," he said, as though daring me to tell him otherwise. Why would I? I wanted to be his.

"Now, love, we need to get this done."

"Get what done?" I managed to ask.

With a motion of his hand he pointed out some engraving that ran across the boulder. His face was grim, and he said, "Aye then. Do ye know what it reads?"

I shook my head. "Haven't a clue."

I could see he was about to tell me when we heard the Stone whisper, "Beannaithe."

Finn looked shocked. "The Stone never recites in front of anyone but a ... roy ... a Rowan."

I wondered what he had started to say. I shrugged. "Well, the stone knows I wouldn't understand."

"Blessed," said the stone.

Finn and I exchanged glances, and Finn, absolutely beside himself, told me, "That is what the word means ... but, Riley ... why would it tell ye that?"

I shrugged. "You aren't expecting me to answer, right?"

"Look, I need to tell ye, Prio used the Sacred Stone to create a special Portal to the Human Realm. He thought that, by going through the Stone's portal, he would be safe from detection. He wasn't. The Stone allowed me to follow him."

"That is, I am guessing, an important thing?"

"Important, yes, but it wasn't unexpected." He shrugged. "As Guardian amongst my kind—that is a very special position, but never mind that now. As Guardian, I have access to many of our artifacts. The Stone recognized my position ..." His voice trailed off, and I was hit between the eyes with a truth. He was still holding back. He wasn't telling me the whole truth. What was it he was so afraid of telling me?

"I followed Prio through the Portal ... Fred followed me. I, however, can come and go to my realm as I choose. Prio cannot. He must go through the Sacred Stone's portal, and it only appears every five hundred years. Now is the time ... now meaning in another two weeks."

He ran his hand through his hair, making a mess of it that showed his sexiness in all its sensual grandeur. If I hadn't already been smitten—I would have been right there and then.

"Wait ... so you are saying this thing has been here for five hundred years and neither my grandmother nor I knew?"

"No, it returned to the queen as soon as it accomplished its mission for Prio."

"Huh! It amazes me that it left the queen in the first place," I answered, giving the situation some scrutiny. "So then what?"

"Although not by blood attachment to the queen, Prio was the biological son of her consort. Therefore the Stone responded to his request, and ..." He stopped. "Well, never mind that now. It returned to the queen, but now it has come back as scheduled. You see, Prio commanded it to return for him, but his problem was he had to wait five hundred years. The Stone is here now readying the portal. It won't open for another two weeks, on the anniversary date of its first arrival. Do ye understand?"

"Yes, got it," I said as I mulled this over.

"I have to stop it from opening. I have to stop him from getting home. I have to kill him, and although I have both the skill and the knowledge of how it should be done ... I am reluctant. You only see and will see the evil he has become. I still see my ... my friend."

"Why here?" I asked, puzzled over this still.

"Prio chose a place with rowan trees to make the transport ... easier. The Stone is at home surrounded by rowans. The tree is beloved by Rowan citizens. It is the reason we named our Realm Rowan all those thousands of centuries ago."

"So ... why do you have to buy the land before the portal opens?" I was getting all my questions lined up in a row.

He took my shoulders. "Because the only way I can stop him is with m'blood, and he knows it. The spell, however, will not be effective unless I own the land where the Sacred Stone is perched. Do ye ken? We don't have time—"

"So I sell you the land, and then you make it impossible for him to return to his world, Finn, but we get stuck with him in ours?" This was not reasonable.

"I don't mean to let him live, and at the very least, when he steps onto the hallowed ground, he will be trapped. That one day, this spot where the Sacred Stone resides, will be hallowed ground. I won't have to even engage him in combat. I will transport him, imprisoned, to another dimension, and this time there will not be any artifacts to allow him to escape."

"And you ... then you will return to your world?" My breath caught in my throat, and my heart began to whimper.

He eyed me, and I saw a wild look in his eyes, as though something inside him was shattering. Suddenly he straightened and looked like a man on the edge as he said, "No. I'll not return without ye. That I have made up m'mind about. Ye have me fair torn in two, lass, fair torn."

I threw myself into his arms. "Oh Finn ... I don't want to do that ... and yet, I don't want to see you go."

He held me tightly, so tightly I thought if I might slip inside him, and then his mouth covered mine and all I knew was the feel of him, my need of him, and my overwhelming love for him. How would I survive now without him if he ever left? I couldn't contemplate that. There were other times I'd thought I wouldn't survive, and somehow I had. Right now, I wanted him and all the kisses he could give me.

He leaned his head back, and his eyes ravished my face as he whispered, "Riley, there is a great deal yet ye need to know, but right now we have to attend to the immediate problem at hand. Will ye sell me the Rowan Woods?"

Without reading my grandmother's diary, I was certain she would have sold the land to him. She was the one who had asked him to return when she realized something was wrong. She trusted him—heck, I knew she trusted and cared enough about him that she wanted me to meet him. What had been good for my granny _was damn straight good for me_.

"Yes, of course. How do you want to do this?" I answered him seriously.

He visibly relaxed and said, "Could we go into town right away then and see to the paperwork?"

"Yes, I don't know very much about selling land, but I know there are some things that may take time, so yes, we had better attend to this now," I answered and then said, "I need to know the answers to a few things, and, Finn, don't hold back, because up until now, I know that you have not been totally forthright."

"Right then, lass. What do you need to know?"

I took a long breath of air and dove right in but put up my hand to make certain he knew not to interrupt me. "You say he wants power. Fine, but, Finn, there are stronger covens than my granny's where he could kill and usurp stronger magic than my members own." I shook my head sadly. "Finn, there are more than a few of our coven members that can't do more than a few parlor tricks actually. Their magic is limited to potions and unimpressive spells. Why put himself at risk by attacking those you and I both will move in to protect?"

"Ah, don't ye see? It isn't just because we will take a stand and protect them _. It is ye, Riley_. Yer power is greater than the entire coven's put together. I have never seen the human like to ye. Ye haven't even tapped what is inside of ye, lass. He sensed yer power when he returned to Sutterville. I think that first night when he went after ye was not to hurt or kill ye but to test ye and see what he was up against."

"How would he have known anything about me?" I was astonished.

"When he escaped he traveled a long time before he returned and made the discovery that the Sacred Stone would return to land owned by your grandmother. He then discovered ... and I am only guessing here, Riley lass, but it wouldn't have taken much for him to discover that yer grandmother was the Lady of the Sutterville Coven. From there, he must have picked up on the residue strong magic leaves behind ... _your strong magic_."

I chewed on this a moment. "So, he doesn't want to kill me, but he does want to use me ... why?"

"To have ye at his side, help him with his magic, and be certain ye will not interfere with his way home. I think he would rather recruit ye first, but if he failed to do that, I have no doubt he would kill ye."

I sighed. "One more thing. Why imprison him for life for a political coup? That hardly seems fair, considering your race is one that lives forever."

"Aye, on the surface it appears that way, but he is special, and the law requires that every century he is given the opportunity to renounce his Dark Magic and ask for forgiveness. If the queen agrees to that, he would be taken to a special facility and given all the help he would need to disassociate himself with the tempting dark arts."

"How did he escape exactly?"

Finn lifted his arm in a hopeless gesture and then shrugged. "I stupidly believed him when he said he had come to see his mistakes. I heard something, obviously he had prearranged a diversion, and in that moment when I turned, even though it was _just a moment,_ he managed to get the better of me."

"Are you saying Prio overpowered you?" I was astonished. I honestly believed that nothing and no one could ever overpower this big, muscular, and brilliant immortal.

"No, not exactly," he answered, and I almost sighed with relief.

He gazed at me for a moment and said, "Riley ... Riley, I am flattered that you think me infallible but my error in judgment has been a grievous mistake." He shook his head and looked solemn. "I was actually excited at the prospect that he might have actually ..." He grimaced and said angrily, " _This is all my fault_."

I touched him. "It is not a fault that you are kind and caring. It is to your credit."

He held my hand and kissed my palm. "You see why I am desperate now to secure him ... put an end to what he has become?" He took my hand, and we stepped backwards and away from the Sacred Rock. "Come then, lass, we haven't much time to get all of this done. We don't know his time schedule or how much magic he has accumulated."

"Of course," I answered and fell in step as he led me back to the roadster.

He saw me seated, came around, and took his place at the wheel before he turned and looked down at me, "Riley lass, ye haven't asked what I am willing to pay ye for the land."

"It doesn't matter. This has never been about money. I only hesitated because I needed to be sure what my grandmother would have done," I answered.

"And now ye are sure?"

"Oh, yes, completely."

"Good, but whether it is about the money or not ... I am going to pay ye well over the fair market price."

"No ... that is ridiculous," I snapped back, aghast.

"There is no market on magic, lass, and ye are selling me a great deal of it when ye sell these twenty acres. It fair teams with power, it does ... these woods."

"Right, but I want to sell it to you at whatever you can afford," I told him.

He nearly choked. "Don't ye know now, Riley love, I can afford to buy the entire State of Maine and still have enough left over to buy New Hampshire."

"Well, then, you better pay me a fair price," I told him and laughed.

"Five hundred thousand dollars, and not a penny more," he said on a serious note.

I choked and then snorted. "Holy shit. All this fighting with Prio has made you addle-brained, Finn. These twenty acres aren't worth more than seventy thousand dollars, and okay a few bucks for the magic ... but five hundred?"

"That is what it is worth to me, and I am the buyer."

"Oh, I just can't—" I started.

"Riley, it would please me, and this will give ye enough to start yer new store, fully stock it, and have payroll ready and in place. Ye will have, after all that, quite a nice nest egg in addition to what yer family has left ye." He sighed. "Ye might want to open a shop right here in Sutterville and then another one in Kennebunkport—who knows, but here is the thing. It will be a nice thing for ye, and it will mean more income for yer partner Betty. She can hire more help and be able to spend time with her new baby. Won't that be grand, lass?"

That won me over. Yes. He had chosen the very argument that I couldn't win. I would love to put Betty in the position of being able to spend more time with her new baby and her wonderful husband. "Okay then ... it is a deal."

"Good." He started the engine.

"Why do you want me to set up shop here in Sutterville?"

"Because ye have me all wrapped up in ye, and I don't think I can leave here till ye are ready. So, if a shop in Sutterville is what ye want, well then, 'tis what I want as well."

"And if it is somewhere else?" I couldn't believe what he was saying. He hadn't come right out and said exactly how he felt about me, and I suppose I was trying to force the issue.

"I'm thinking, lass, I will follow ye anywhere ye want to go, but first, we need tying up this problem so that I can face Prio and finish the job."

I heard what he said. He was going to face Prio, and yet what he had said about following me anywhere I wanted to go took first place. I was flooded with warmth. I was tingling with feeling, and I was ready so ready for Finn Dunraven.

He was an immortal, and I was a mortal, my prude voice said loudly in my head.

_Yeah, so_ , my she-devil responded, raising her voice over Miss Prude.

_Well, that is a problem_ , I answered both of them, _but for now ... don't care. I just don't care._ Here and now was what I was interested in, and tomorrow would just sort itself out.

~ Thirteen ~

FINN AMAZED ME. It was as though he knew in advance what I needed. Here he was, anxious to get to my family attorney, and yet he leaned in and asked, "Would ye like to stop by and check in on your Aunt Alice?"

It was what I so wanted. "You don't mind? I know you are in a hurry ..."

"Ah, lass, ye should know me a bit better by now. It worries me that ye don't."

I didn't answer that. Was I afraid to know him? Was I afraid to think him as fine a man as ever I had come across and then be shot down? Probably.

The nurse on duty allowed us a short visit. I was thrilled to find Aunt Alice sitting up and of all things working at her crochet.

We had a lovely visit with Aunt Alice, and Finn had the two of us and the nursing staff laughing and joining in on the visit. He was very good with people, and as I watched him, I felt my heart swell.

As the time came for us to leave, Aunt Alice took my hand and tugged me close to whisper, "Don't leave his side, child."

I gave her a naughty look and teased, "Whatever do you mean?"

She didn't laugh at this but said on a grim note, "You know what I mean. _It_ is after you—the Dark is after _you_. I feel it. Finn will protect you, and I rest easier knowing you are with him. _Promise me?_ "

"Okay, I promise you," I said. I didn't want her to become agitated, and for the time being I meant to keep that promise.

As we left the hospital and drove the short distance to my attorney, Mr. Waldo Jenkins, I was hit by the undeniable fact that I was not just in 'lust' with the immortal beside me but totally and unconditionally in love with him.

I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

Finn was a complicated man. He had facets to him I wanted to discover, so I had to put in the time, and Alice was right, this thing—Prio's Dark—was after me.

I would be safer with Finn in some ways at least, and this made me smile to myself. I must have sighed out loud. I had originally thought that he was probably a heartless player with a string of women. I had not found evidence to prove that notion. Quite the opposite.

He took my fingers to his sensuous lips as we reached the side street. Mr. Jenkins' large offices, which were located in a Victorian styled home of green and cream dominated the street.

Softly he asked, "What is it, lass?"

"Nothing, why do you ask?" I shook my head and hoped he would drop it. I don't discuss my thoughts easily with anyone.

"You sighed, lass," he said and cocked a brow.

I bit back a smile. "It was nothing."

"It was more than a 'nothing'." He wasn't letting this go.

"Okay, all right, if you must know, I was thinking that you are a better man than the guy I thought you were when I first met you."

"Ah Riley, no doubt yer instincts were intact then and telling ye to stay clear of me. That was probably what ye should be listening to. It is too late now, for I'm no certain I can let ye stay clear of me now. Come what may, right now, here and now as ye said earlier ... I can't keep away from ye, and I don't even want to try."

"I'm glad, because I don't want you to keep away from me," I answered, surprised at the small voice I heard coming out of my mouth. I have never been meek and submissive. What was this?

His voice was a growl. "Good."

He parked, and we took the walkway to the wide steps and welcoming front door of the Victorian building. As Finn opened the door for me to go through, a staff member got up from her desk and came forward, hand extended first to Finn. I didn't even get a smile. But then, who could blame her for being dazzled by Finn?

"Mr. Dunraven," the pretty blonde said. "How nice. What can we do for you?"

_Huh_ _?_ I don't know why I was so astonished. I should have realized that Finn might already have had business dealings with Mr. Jenkins. He was the most prominent attorney in our small village.

Blondie gushed as she offered him coffee, and he politely declined but turned to me and asked sweetly, with his hand on my back, "Would ye like a cup of coffee, lass?"

"Ah, no, thanks," I said, and our eyes locked in understanding. He had not only staked his claim to me, he was also not bashful about going public with it. My heartbeat went into overdrive, and I almost threw my arms around his neck and kissed him.

Mr. Jenkins came out, bright and genuinely pleased to greet us, as Finn had called him and told him we would be coming in. I liked Mr. Jenkins. He was elderly, and I had often accompanied my grandmother when she went in to see him over some little business she was conducting on behalf of the coven or herself. Edward Jenkins was not part of the coven, but he had lived in Sutterville all his life, and many of the members were dear friends. He knew without being told, my grandmother had said to me when I asked.

He led us into his office and saw us seated before he went to sit behind his desk and place his folded hands on a neat assortment of paperwork. "What can I do for you today?"

I sat back and watched Finn in action. He was amazing. This was how he'd achieved his billionaire status, in this brisk, no-nonsense style. It took only a few moments for him to list what needed to be done.

Mr. Jenkins said he would draw up the 'binder paperwork' and have that ready for us in the morning for signing.

Finn said, "I want to proceed with the title search immediately, as there can be no delay."

Mr. Jenkins frowned. "Yes, but ... these things take time ..."

"Not if I pay the additional fee to get it done quickly," Finn returned sharply.

"Sure ... okay." Mr. Jenkins smiled. "I'll get that started today."

So, I thought, look at that, Finn had addressed our needs and got things into action. As he stood up and put out his hand for mine, I had to stop myself from too anxiously jumping up and throwing myself at him.

I was very impressed with the manner in which he had conducted himself, never once leaving me out of it. At every juncture he had turned to me and sincerely asked for my opinion. I found myself choking up with the rush of feeling he engendered in me.

His touch when he took my fingers sent wild and erotic sensations through me. My body quivered, and my inner witch screamed, _Get on with it! Hurry up and get back into his arms._

As Mr. Jenkins saw us to the front door, he advised us that it was all a simple matter and he expected that if there was nothing untowards we should be able to meet Finn's deadline.

Finn said, "Mr. Jenkins, I have come to you simply because I don't have the time to deal with any ... untoward matters. This needs to be done and quickly ... even before my timeline."

"Indeed, I do understand ... but when it comes to real estate—" Mr. Jenkins started to say.

Finn cut him off. "This real estate has always been in Miss Doogan's family name. She has agreed to sell me the property. The title search is but a formality. As long as you get the paperwork done ... the sale will go forward one way or another."

"Yes, yes, as you say ... but as there has never been a title search, it could be tricky."

"What do you mean there has never been a title search?" I stuck in, surprised.

"As Mr. Dunraven has pointed out, the land has been owned by your family from the start ... no need for a title search has ever arisen. That is my one concern."

"I see," I said, frowning.

"I don't see. The land belongs to Miss Doogan. As long as she signs the deed over to me, I will deal with title searches and title insurance. I trust her, you see."

"Ah, of course, but as the attorney ... for both of you in this matter ..." He was frowning now, and I could see he was genuinely concerned.

Finn put a hand on the elderly man's shoulder, "Just start the ball. We'll deal with it from then on."

"Yes, yes, as you say, no sense worrying in advance." Mr. Jenkins smiled as we stood on the threshold. He called out as we stepped outside, "Riley, your grandmother would have been pleased. She had given me a call and told me she was thinking of selling this piece to Mr. Dunraven. She asked me to get the survey ready, so that is at least already done."

I smiled because those words went through me softly, and I could almost hear her voice and feel her arms around me.

Finn, however, frowned and looked at me, "Are ye saying, sir, that surveyors were on that part of the property?"

"Yes, of course ... and it is all in order. I remember studying it as soon as it came in ... just a week before Maddy's passing." He frowned. "Is there any problem I should be made aware of?"

"No ... but if ye could prepare a copy of the survey and the name of the man or men that managed it?" Finn said, and I heard concern in his voice and stared at him.

"Of course," Mr. Jenkins said.

Finn put out his hand for me, and said, "Come, lass."

I knew Finn can't help it. He was all alpha male. This fact displayed itself in everything he did, but I have always been an independent person. Contrarily, when he reached for me and said 'come', I wanted to withhold my hand and say no.

I restrained my natural sense of defiance and saved it for something more important. My body immediately reacted to him as it always seemed to do. When I gave him my hand, it was like a symphony of intermixed sensations shot through me and made me quiver with anticipation. I looked at him and saw he felt the same.

"What's wrong?" I asked as we made our way to the roadster.

"I have to be certain Prio hasn't altered the survey in any way. If he knew someone was out there ... he could have used a spell of illusion, and they may have surveyed the wrong piece."

"Oh, holy shit." I was surprised by this. "Oh holy shit. Then what do we do?"

"Fix it, lass," he said, grinning. "Quite easily done."

I laughed. "Magic that has been done, can be undone. But don't you have to know the spell?"

"No," he answered. "I'm nae a witch, warlock, or wizard. I am an immortal. My magic is altogether different." His hungry eyes were smoldering when he looked into mine. I was taken. Totally taken. Captivated is also a good word. I had never been aroused like this, not even by Drake Briscoe. Drake had been my one real high school crush, but I did not have fond memories of that, and then, holy cow, think of the devil— _there he was!_

Finn had just dropped my hand to open the roadster's door when Drake Briscoe, with his arms open wide, stalked me with a grin and a bellowing, "Riley Doogan ..."

Drake had been a jock in school whose father owned the local lumber mill and thus, he had it all, so to speak, and knew it. He was, I thought at the time, a carefree, nice enough guy, and for that short length of time, I had suffered along with most of the high school girls a huge crush on him.

I had my eyes opened up wide when I came across him leading his friends in a feeding frenzy they thought was hilarious. They had surrounded a classmate of mine who didn't enjoy good looks or popularity, and they apparently thought they were doing her a favor by giving her any attention at all. They had teased her, no, let's not call it teasing, bullied her into tears.

I stepped in shouting at them, but not before I used a little magic and taught them a lesson. They never knew what hit them. I grabbed Francine's hand and brought her home with me, and we sat and allowed Granny to make us laugh and forget their cruel antics. We remained friends, and after college she went off to Paris, where she is presently enjoying her fame as a celebrated artist; the gawky teenager is now a confident beauty. I remembered that I had promised to visit her as soon as I could, and that was over a year ago.

As Drake approached, I realized that Finn had stepped forward and almost in front of me. He did not look happy, and I could see Drake meant to embrace me. I almost laughed because I could see Finn had no intention of allowing him to do so.

Drake was about six foot tall. Finn quite a few inches taller than that.

"Riley! Hey, girl, don't you look gorgeous!" Drake said as tried to side-step Finn and found himself blocked. He frowned in Finn's direction and tried to reach past him for me.

I stayed out of reach and said with NYC dismissive attitude, "Hi, Drake, how ya doing?"

Like the buffoon he was, he didn't notice anything but the chance to brag. "Come on, let's hit the coffee shop and catch up. I can't wait to tell you how much I've done with the mill since my dad signed it over to me."

I was surprised to hear that his father had done anything of the sort. However, I just wanted to get away from him because at the moment I could see that Finn was ready, so ready to pound him into the cement.

I purposely raised my brows at Finn, hoping to defuse him, and said, "Drake Briscoe ... Finn Dunraven."

"Yeah," Drake said to Finn, "I've seen you around town. Hi, I own Briscoe Lumber. You purchased your lumber and supplies earlier this year when you had your barn built by the Armor boys."

Barn? He had a barn built? Did he have horses? Oh, I love horses.

"Right ye are. I dealt with yer father," Finn answered coldly.

"Yeah, but now, I own the place," Drake boasted, and I really didn't like him for it.

"Do you now?" Finn returned, eyeing him with derision. "Come, Riley ..." he said softly to me.

"Bye, bye, Drake," I called out and waved myself off. I noticed his eyes narrow. He hadn't liked that, not one bit, and I realized that Finn had made an enemy. I was pretty sure Drake wasn't too pleased with me either.

"I don't like him," Finn said as we got into his roadster. "If ever he tries putting his hands on ye, I'll grind him to dust."

I laughed. "I think he doesn't like you either, though I think you have a better chance of grinding him than he you."

Finn liked that and grinned but then asked, "Is he an old boyfriend? I would have thought you had better taste than that, lass."

I pulled a face at him, and a disgusted sound escaped me, "I may have been infatuated with him in high school for a short time, but once I got a good look at who he really was, _oh no_."

He took his eyes off the road and studied me. He had done that before, and I knew it was because he could. No doubt he had magic that allowed him to drive without looking when he needed. He said in a tone that sent shivers through me, _"Riley_ ... I don't think I have ever met anyone who deals with the truth as openly as ye do _. I love_ that in ye."

"Well, the truth is important to me. I don't mean that I think anyone should use it if the end result is unnecessarily hurtful, but whenever possible, I know I like to know the truth. If I ask you and really want to know, does this color suit me, and you say yes when it doesn't, well ... in the end that isn't kind, is it?" I sighed. "However, there is a right way and a wrong way to tell the truth."

He laughed. "I can see you have given the matter a great deal of thought."

I eyed him, for he was laughing a little at me. "Right," I said.

"Shall I tell ye a truth here and now?"

"Yes." The breath in my lungs hitched, and I stared at his handsome profile, as he was back to looking at the road.

"May the fates preserve and save us, Riley love, for I mean to have ye soon ... very soon, and I don't mean to let ye out of m'bed or out of m'sight until ye demand that I do ... and even then, I'm not certain I will be able to."

"I don't think I will demand any such thing," I said boldly.

He moved into fourth gear, and the roadster zoomed. I was momentarily plastered against the back of my rich leather seat.

_Holy shit_ , what had I just said? I was about to give myself to Finn Dunraven, that was what I was about to do. How was that going to work? Me—twenty four years old and still a virgin. Him—older, much older and an immortal. Would my human body be able to handle his ...? More importantly, would my mind?

We would soon see, and the anticipation made me cross my legs.

~ Fourteen ~

HE STOPPED AT his front door and maneuvered me against him as he molded me to his body with deft handling. My breathing hitched, but I noticed that his had become ragged, and that inspired a tremor of pleasure that shot right up my spine.

His voice, low and hard, was a fierce beat of eroticism, " _Ril-lea_ ... I don't know what I'm doing any longer. If I were a decent man, I would be telling ye to run, but I can't tell ye that, and if ye tried to leave now, I think I might try and make ye stay."

"I don't want to run," I managed to answer him.

"Do ye know, love, what I am?" He didn't wait for me to answer but continued, and his voice was feral, "I'm the ultimate predator when it comes to ye, lass. M'mind—och aye, m'body calls for ye, and no other will do. This need I have for ye— _this wanting_ is all consuming, and yet, someone decent in m'head keeps telling me I'm a blackguard, a selfish blackguard because while ye are the one for me ... probably for all my eternity, I am not the right one for ye. Riley, ye should turn away from me because I can't seem to turn away from ye."

His words made the blood scoot through my veins. It was hot and bubbly and not at all comfortable. Only his touch, his deft handling, could make it better. My throat went dry. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest. I swear that organ was working so hard my body quivered and threatened to explode in response. This man did things to me that I couldn't explain. I had a view of my inner witch, and she was already naked, her raw desire all over her face—my face. I thought my head would burst with the image of me crawling towards him, hot and hungry and wanting to do things I had heard my friends talk about that had always had me squeamish in the past.

There was so much about me he didn't know—things I had kept buried, things I had ignored so that I could fit in with the Human World. I loved the Human World—so much that I had been denying who and what I am.

I heard the whisper in my voice as I responded to him, "I feel the same, Mr. Immortal. I want to run, but I can't, and the thing is I make my own decisions. You can't make them for me."

That was the response I gave him. I had already told myself, _H_ _ere you go, Riley, straight into heaven or hell—or both!_

His short laugh was a hard sound, and then he bent, and I knew he meant to only brush his lips to mine, but as our mouths met, something electric happened.

It was as though he had kicked in the wall he had put up. His lips parted mine, and his tongue began stroking with velvet smoothness against my tongue. I was aware only of sensation. His honeyed mouth filled mine with sweetness that drew on me. I sucked at his tongue with relish, with appreciation as my mouth filled with the flavor that was Finn Dunraven.

We were still in the threshold of his front door as my inner witch expanded and told me we were one, had always been one, and the time was now for more. The next thing I knew he had my hair wound up in his hand while his free hand took my breast and massaged it with a skill that drove me wild. I rubbed myself against him, wanting more, so much more. I wanted our clothes gone. I wanted skin against skin. Who was this person? Was this me? If so, where had she been all these years? _Waiting for Finn_ , my witch said hoarsely.

I met his kiss with a ferociousness I had in the past kept deeply hidden. I had always been afraid of that inner, darker witch. The response my wantonness elicited from him was a ravenous exploration of my body. His hands were everywhere, even as our kisses evolved into many.

I found his knee between my thighs, and I pressed against it. I broke from his kiss as this aroused me into a state I couldn't believe I had in me. I rubbed hard against his knee, and the pressure built up inside me.

He pulled his knee away, and I said, "No ... don't stop that."

He didn't answer as he silenced me with his tongue in my mouth again. My hands were at his neck, and then suddenly he made a primal sound as he said my name, low and hard, picked me up, and headed for the main staircase.

Just at that moment, Fred appeared from down the long hall. His entire body wagged with welcome, and Finn told him softly, "Fred, my man, I need ye to guard the premises while I attend to Riley for a time. Will ye do that?"

Fred barked in response and hurried off.

Still in his arms and hovering over the staircase, I laughed and asked, "Does he really know what you just said?"

"Aye, in this realm, your trained dogs understand single words, usually only a few which are repeated. In our world, our dogs understand full sentences, and Fred, well, he is exceptional."

I grinned. "Of course he is, like his master."

"Oh Riley, I'm not his master, I'm his friend." He took those stairs two by two, and when we got to his bedroom suite, he set me down on his bed. With a blink, my sneakers were gone, but he put his hands on my jeans just over my belly and undid my zipper. "I want to take off yer clothes slow and easy and watch yer face as I reveal yer body to me."

"There is an easier way," I whispered.

"Will ye help me get these off, or shall I rip them off?" he said. "For ripping them off appeals to me."

"Does it?" He excited me. In every single possible way, he excited me. "Since these are my favorite jeans ..." I flicked my wrist, and they were gone.

He grinned and said, "I don't think I have ever seen ye use your magic like that before."

"I have a few things up my sleeve you haven't seen," I answered, and the audaciousness of my words made me bite my bottom lip and look at him.

"Och aye, lass, those impish violet eyes of yers slay me," he said and kissed my belly. "Right then, "Now these ..."

Off came my black lacy thongs. "And this ..." He blinked, and gone were my denim jacket and tank top. I hadn't worn a bra, so I was fully naked.

I watched his eyes devour every inch of me.

"Well, now love ... well now," he said and bent to take my breasts into his hands.

I closed my eyes.

"Ye drive me mad, Riley," he said as he bent and dropped a kiss on each of my nipples. "These are beautiful." His kisses turned into licking and then suckling with such a force that I squirmed with pleasure.

I couldn't speak. I felt my body respond to him in a way I never thought possible, but more than that, I realized something—his strength was incredible, and yet I could feel him restraining himself. I knew, somehow, he didn't have to.

I was up to the challenge of his immortal strength, and I grabbed his head as he suckled and couldn't believe the primal sound I made as I told him, "Yes ... harder ... like that."

He suckled on one nipple while his fingers played with the other, tugging it into a pertness that had my entire body clenching.

I moaned as pleasure swept through me, and he came up from my breasts to kiss me long and forcefully before whispering in my ears, "Ye don't know what ye are getting into giving yerself to me, but I mean to show ye now."

"Ditto," I told him.

He nibbled a path back to my breasts and suckled one until I was pressing myself against his still dressed body so hard I heard him chuckle and say, "Easy, lass, slow and easy ..." He sighed and added, "Right then, my darlin'. Eyes wide open, are they?"

I nodded again and said on a voice I was sure was not mine, " _And yours_? Are yours wide open, Finn Dunraven?"

* * *

"From the moment I saw ye, Riley." His kisses traveled down my belly and then back up to my neck, my ears, my mouth. He mumbled against my lips, "Lass, lass, ye are beautiful and delicious."

I wanted him naked, so I blinked, and he was.

He leaned away from me and was on his knees, his erection pointed at me. He was a beautiful man, and I caught my breath. His hand went to his hard-on and said, "Is this what ye wanted to see, then, love? Does it suit ye?"

"Uh-huh," was all I could answer.

He leaned in and was on me, and I felt that hard cock of his against my hip as he continued to kiss me and take moments to whisper beautiful words. "Ah, lass, I'll go easy ... as ye are mortal. But if I forget m'self, if I'm too much ... too rough, ye will stop me. _Promise?_ "

Ah, he was worried about hurting me. Should I tell him? Should I tell him that I had unusual physical strength? I had discovered it while I was still young. I said, "I don't ... er ... bruise easy, and I am stronger than most. I suppose it is the super witch in me."

He eyed me. "Stronger than most? Well, well, are ye now—how is that, I wonder?"

I laughed. "Have you ... I mean, have you ever ... been with a mortal woman?"

He nodded. "Aye." His mouth traveled over mine then, effectively silencing me, and his tongue smoothly enticed mine into a heated response. I was on fire for his touch, his kisses, that hard shaft branding my naked body.

His palm had begun moving against my sex in a way that made me brainless, and all I could do was buck into his hand. All I knew was what I felt. All I heard was my wild, wanton witch asking for more and more.

"I don't know what ye are used to lass, but ..." he sounded worried now, but his eyes smoldered with hunger and his hand became insistent as his finger began to explore my wetness.

His finger moved in a way that made me writhe. My body responded to him by bucking into his finger, and he moaned and said, "But I'll warrant is wasn't anything like what ye are about to experience."

I was breathless as I told him, "Smug, aren't you? Well ... as to what I am used to? _I am not_ used to anything, because I have never—" His sudden movement away from me cut me off at that.

He went stock still and brought up his head from my belly, where he had been grazing with light, impossibly soft nips and making me insane with desire. He said, his eyes bright with shock, his tone tinged with disbelief, "Ye have never _what_ exactly?"

"Been with a man, immortal or otherwise." My voice trembled in the air, and nervously I was back at my bottom lip. Would he stop? Would he pull away in disgust or horror? Would he think me some kind of untouchable?

He leaned into me and palmed my cheek as he whispered, "How can that be? Lass, ye can't have gone through college ... gone into business and not had lads a plenty chasing after ye?"

"I wouldn't say ... lads a plenty, but, yes, guys made their usual moves."

"And ye weren't tempted? Ye nae found any to yer liking?"

I sighed. This is not where I wanted to go. I didn't want to talk. I wanted him to make love to me. I wanted him. I said, "It is complicated."

"So ye never ... have ever?"

"Nope, never-ever," I answered.

I saw something of a gleam in his flame lit green eyes. I felt a response to the soft smile that curved his luscious lips. _Damn,_ oh I was damned because I wanted him at all costs. I wanted him at that moment. I wanted him for all moments. _I was lost._

He said, his voice low and hungry, "Well, then, all that is about to change, Riley, but tell me ye are ready, because this is no easy thing. Ye will never be the same after this day's work."

He was so gentle, so caring. I couldn't get past his mental shield to scan his thoughts, his true thoughts, but I didn't need to. They were there in every single thing he did. Action, so much more than words. He made no move on me as he waited for me to think and then answer.

"This is what I want, here and now with you," I told him, and our eyes locked. I saw something take over his features, something that looked dominant and possessive, and he answered, "Aye then, but, lass, know this, my wanting ye is like nothing I have ever felt for any female in my realm or yers. This hunger for ye is making me primal, but I know I ... I can be rough in the taking of ye, and if I am, ye shout out for me to stop, and I swear, I will. Do ye ken?"

His words took the flames already burning inside me and exploded them into myriad rocket flares. I was on fire for him. My super-witch had beaten down most of my walls—her prison walls were nearly gone. She was ready to make her escape. I wanted her to make her escape. She growled, and the sound was emitted from my throat, and she—or was that I who reached for and stroked his cock lying hard against my hip?

He grinned wickedly and shook his head, but all I could do was stare at his erection as I ran my fingers over it.

He got onto his knees and brought it closer so I was able to wrap my hand around it. He closed his hand over mine and worked it into motion.

It felt so damn good. He was hard and yet smooth as I stroked him faster and then faster still.

I loved the expression on his face as he closed his eyes and made a low, feral sound. I got into a sitting position and scrambled to kiss the tip of his erection. He was so damn tempting.

His words of encouragement made me begin to lick the tip, then the length, and then he was putting it in my mouth.

He said, "Riley ... aye, lass, just like that ..." And he pushed the tip deeper into my mouth and said, "Suck at it, lass, hard. Aye ... then." He was rocking it in my mouth as he said, "That's what it will be like when I get it between yer thighs. Here, let me show ye." He took my face in his two hands and pushed himself in deeper, gently deeper still.

I closed my eyes and sucked hard. I had never done this, but while boys have their locker room talks, girls have their coffee klatches. My friends were very right. This was wonderful and empowering. He groaned and called out my name.

The next thing I knew, he pulled out of my mouth, and his voice was a throaty mixture of controlled passion as he laid me on my back.

"Riley ... did ye like that, lass?"

"Yes. I liked it a lot," I answered, surprised at the hunger in my voice. Oh, I wondered for a quick minute what he meant to do, because suddenly he parted my thighs and lowered his head. He shoved his finger inside me there and moved it with a skill that made me wriggle and squirm and call out, "Yes ... Finn, yes ..."

In answer to my cry for more, he pushed up my knee with one free hand, and I drew in my other leg so that I was wantonly exposed. His tongue joined his finger, lapping in between the gentle nips he gave my wet, hot sex.

I arched to the sensations he had aroused in me. I felt a build-up of pleasure centered and growing on itself. That passion blossomed into something I knew was about to implode. I knew it was building into something I had never experienced before. Pressure and need merged and demanded release.

I needed release, and I bucked and felt the muscles in my sex contract, and even as I thought I couldn't take any more pleasure, my world exploded into life. I felt myself clench around his fingers as I panted and shook from the sweet yet somehow cataclysmic event I had just experienced. He had brought me to my second orgasm, and I had yet to please him in the same way.

Suddenly that was all I wanted to do—please him. At the moment, however, my body was caught in the shuddering aftermath of my explosive release. I huffed out his name in spurts of satiated need. I opened my eyes and looked into his, and his voice was a low sound of adoration as he said my name, "Ri-lea ... och, lass! I'm going to make ye do that again over and over all night, but now, with me."

"Yes ... yes, again," I gasped. I never wanted this to stop.

He pushed me onto my back and straddled me so that his cock was near my breasts, and he put it to each nipple and rubbed it until I groaned with the pleasure the sensation elicited in me. He moved it lower to my belly and said, "I should take my time, and I will the next go around, but now, lass, I have to have ye ... _I have to have ye now_."

"Yes, have me." I sounded even to my own ears like a stranger begging to get laid, and I didn't care.

"Och, lass ..." he said and bent to nip my belly as he moved his cock along my inner thigh. He didn't have to spread me wide; I did that for him.

"Do ye know what I'm going to do to ye now?" he asked on a hoarse, hungry note.

" _Yes_ , what you said you wanted to do early on. You are going to fuck me," I answered, feeling as wildly wanton as I sounded.

"Aye, that I am," he said, and all at once that was what he did. He rammed his cock into me hard and fast, and I felt an immediate tearing that made me wince with sure and sudden pain. He stopped for a moment, but all my life I have been a quick healer, and this was no exception. I immediately bucked against him. He groaned and then pounded into me with that glorious dick of his. Fast, hard, faster still. He worked our bodies into a frenzy of sensation.

The pain was forgotten as he worked me with that huge cock of his ... slamming deep inside and then slightly pulling back only to ram it back in. _Oh, hot damn_ , the pleasure had me rising up, and he grabbed my butt and kept me close as he continued to slam into me with a skill that made me want to worship at his feet.

It was there, right there, my orgasm, and when he said, "Holy life, lass ... holy life, can ye fuck!" I came with a force that rocked both our bodies while he poured his own release into me, swift and hot.

He sank with me onto the bed and stayed inside me as my muscles clenched around his shaft, still hard.

"Riley ... did I hurt ye, lass?"

"Only when you first ... then it was ... it was ..."

"Och aye, I know what it was and will be again. Can ye take me again, for I need more of ye as ye say, in the here and now."

"Oh yes, more, here and now," I answered. I wasn't sore. From all accounts I should be, but I wasn't, and when he pulled his dick out of me I wanted to yank him back inside.

He kissed me then lightly on the edge of my mouth and whispered, "Do ye want to taste yerself on m'tongue love ... do ye? It is sweet and sensual, let me show ye?"

My initial reaction was to wrinkle my nose. Taste myself? Oooh, no ... and then he didn't give me time to think about it as his tongue was inside my mouth, lapping at mine and once again igniting that mindless desire out of me.

I clung to him as he kissed me. My breathing had been turned into short gasps of air. I pushed against him as his wet, dripping cock branded my hip and when he pulled back to tell me, "Lass, I am going to take ye tonight in more ways than ye ever dreamt possible. Ye are mine ... _stamped_ into m'heart, into m'essence, and I'll nae let ye go. Ye are m'treasure, m'sweet life, mine, and I claim ye. Do ye ken?"

I noticed that his accent became thicker during his arousal, and that too got me hot and excited. I answered, smiling up at him, "I ken."

Then he touched me, and I squirmed as his ministrations aroused me to new heights. "Oh, Finn ... I like that," I told him as his fingers feathered my nipples and the sensation made me gasp. The sensation swept through me all the way down to my clit, which was already swollen with need and trembling for more.

How was that possible? Shouldn't I be too sore? He was huge so huge I had not thought he would even fit inside, and yet he had, although I had felt him stretch me as he pounded into me. The force he had used was more than a normal human man would use. How had my body managed to withstand that? No, not withstand it ... respond and give as much as it took? How was this all possible?

His fingers massaged a path over my belly to my thighs before he cupped me there. His one finger sought and flicked at my spot, and at my clitoris, and when I heard him groan, it excited me, and I pumped against his finger.

"Ye are so fucking ready, Riley ... so hot and wet and ready ... just for me. Ye drive me mad, ye do."

Abruptly he moved as though he had been set on fire. He groaned and said, "Riley ... I've been holding back, but ye draw on all of me ... ye are so much stronger than I thought possible."

He was right. I was stronger. I knew it as I met him move for move with a power that came from some hidden place deep inside me. I was only a mortal witch, right? I had never heard of a witch being quite this strong, but then I really didn't know anything about the sex life of a witch, did I? So maybe this was normal?

He turned me over onto my belly, put an arm under my waist, and pulled me up as he placed me on my hands and knees. I felt his hands caress my butt, gently massage, gently slap me lower, almost between my thighs, and it tingled. In fact, that gentle spank excited me all the way down to my toes.

"Are ye afraid, lass?" His voice was a low, feral sound. "Nae, I don't think so."

He didn't think so because I was shoving my ass back at him. I wanted more, so much more. I was only afraid of one thing—shouting the words 'fuck me'. Would that make me sound too needy? Suddenly he spanked me again ... right at my sex. It was a gentle spank, more like a vibration, and the sensation swept through me pleasurably while I wriggled and groaned.

"Ye like that, do ye, lass? Tell me what it makes ye want?"

"To fuck ... I want to fuck, Finn."

He groaned as my words engendered an explosive response from him. He beat his cock against my ass and said, "Aye, that ye do, that ye will, for me, only for me."

He said, "There are things I want to do to ye and for ye. I want ye to experience every pleasure I can give ye. Close yer eyes now, love," he said, and I did that for him. He rubbed his cock down my thigh, then the next thigh, then back up to my ass, and he whispered, "I think ye will like it if I make certain ye can't open yer lovely eyes."

I felt the cold draft as he got up and left me on the bed. I sat up on my knees and watched him as he fished in his drawer and felt my eyes open wide as he came back with a black tie.

What the hell was that for?

"What are you doing?" Was I shocked? Maybe, but also just as curious. I was hungry for anything he wanted to do to me because everything he had done so far had been wonderfully delicious.

He stopped first to stare at my breasts, and his breathing was a low, animal pant before he said on a hoarse whisper, "Ye are an exquisite woman." He reached and fondled my breast, then took my nipple with his fingers and gently pulled. "I'm going to pleasure ye until ye beg me to stop."

Those words sent shivers up my spine, circled and found their way to the nipple he was caressing, down to my belly, and then made my thighs clench.

He said, "I'm going to tie this around yer eyes, lass, do ye know why?"

"No." I heard the squeak in my voice.

"So that ye have to concentrate on what is happening to ye. Ye'll feel every single touch, ye'll feel the pleasure—zero in on it and give yerself to it. Do ye trust me?"

"Yes." I did trust him so much more than he even knew.

He tied the necktie around my head, effectively blindfolding me, and said, "Back on yer hands and knees, woman, och aye, that's right ... just like that with that perfect ass up ... and yer thighs spread and ready."

His fingers played with my rump, and the sensation that shot through me was like nothing else that I had experienced up until that moment. I didn't know what was wrong ... or was it 'right' with me. I wanted everything he had to give. I was starving for his magical fingers. He produced a bevy of sensations in me all at once as his hands worked my rump. I couldn't see. All I could do was feel, and it was building up inside me, out of control. His hands massaged my ass in a way that made my sex clench over and over, and I knew I was being built to a peak.

"Oh-ho, not so fast, m'fine woman, I mean to savor ye for as long as I can." His voice was a low, fevered sound.

He continued to use his fingers with an expertise that made me wild. Up and over my spine and down low, down between my thighs, his thumb flipping my clit in a way that made me buck backwards and beg him for more. I was close, so close to release. I just needed a bit more and knew he was withholding it from me. He was teasing me to a new height.

He continued the slow, steady, torturous exploration of my body with his hands. He fondled my breasts as his erection branded my butt. He dry-humped me hard and wantonly for a few moments, and I pushed back as I wanted him inside me again. "Oh, Finn ... please," I begged.

"Please what, love?"

"You know what ... _fuck me!_ " I demanded harshly, for I was at the point of no return. All at once, I was there—right there. I needed that one little push to get me over that ledge I had climbed up to.

Quietly he said, "Oh, I'm going to fuck ye, Ri-lea ... I'm going to fuck ye till ye can't walk on the morrow. I am going to keep ye in m'bed, and while ye sleep I'm going to cover ye with m'kisses and rest m'cock against ye so that as ye open yer eyes it will be to find me ramming m'cock into ye again. I'm going to fuck ye in ways ye will never forget."

That was it; he tipped me over the edge, and I felt a detonation take place inside me that rocked my body. I convulsed in the aftermath as my body tightened in on itself, and I squeezed my thighs together and relaxed into the shockwaves traveling through me.

I couldn't think. I was mindless and shivered uncontrollably as he didn't give me another moment to think. He palmed my sex and began vibrating me faster than I thought possible. I could feel my body converge on itself as the lust grew inside me once more and pyramided in my belly.

I was in the dark. All I could do was feel, and everything he did seemed intensified beyond my understanding. I was crawling up a slippery incline while my belly clenched and unclenched and he spread my thighs wider than I thought possible.

I felt him tease my clit with the head of his erection before he plunged himself inside and filled me up to my walls. He pounded inside me with that wondrous huge erection that was so hard, so wide and that he used with a vigor that had me mindless.

Was that me drooling? I was drooling with the pleasure he had instilled in me. I was in a world of sensation and gave myself over to him.

"Damn bloody damn, you are so fucking good!" he cried as he slammed into me hard and fast and made me mewl his name right out loud, so loud that I think it reverberated off the walls.

I reached the pinnacle of the ecstasy he had brought me to, and all I could do was make animal sounds of pleasure, like a dog eating and grunting and grunting and eating.

When I climaxed it was as though my body crumbled in on itself. I clenched his cock so deep inside me as I shuddered over and over again, my body jerking uncontrollably.

As he emptied himself inside me, I heard him cry out my name with reverence, and I felt an undeniable satisfaction.

He scooped me into his arms and held my back against himself, covered me with his body, and then he sent the blindfold flying across the room as we were tucked into one another in a spooned position.

He pushed my hair out of the way as he nibbled at my ear, leaned over and dropped a kiss on my face as he turned my cheek towards him. Then he covered my ears, my eyes, and the back of my neck with his voracious nibbling, loving kisses.

I never wanted this to stop. Insanely I wanted more of him. I was in heat, and my super witch wasn't ready to cry 'uncle'. Why wasn't I sore and exhausted? I knew that as a mortal I should be. Even though I was as a 'super-witch' stronger than your average mortal, shouldn't I still be a little tired? After all, this was my first time.

I wasn't tired—quite the opposite, in fact. I was hungry, though, very hungry for him. It was as though no matter how much I had of him, I wanted more.

I knew instinctively he was holding back, afraid to hurt me. I was glad the blindfold was off. It had been exciting, not being able to see—to only 'feel'—but now I wanted to watch his face while he was a part of me, deep inside me, and in order to do that, I needed him on top of me and driving inside me. I slipped out of the spoon position and lay on my back as I spread my legs invitingly and asked, "Got more of that, Mr. Immortal?"

He moaned and touched my lips with his finger. His touch was exquisite, and he said softly, "Riley lass, I have as much as ye like, but are ye not hurting?"

I could feel his erection on my body, on my skin, and I wanted it inside of me. "Not hurting," was all I could squeak.

He had both my breasts in his hands as I felt him straddle me, his cock big and hard against my belly. "I love yer breasts ... their shape, your big pink nipples."

I reached out, and he took my hand and put it on his cock and asked, "Do ye like that inside ye, love?"

"Yes ... want it now again ... _do me again_ ," I told him boldly.

He was suddenly off me, and I watched as he settled into a sitting position against his headboard. I crawled up his calves and stopped at his cock. I stroked it, and it was sticky ... from me, from us.

"Och aye, lass, taste it ..." he moaned pleasurably.

I licked it, and he asked, "Do ye like tasting it, lass ... like it is now?"

He was hot. I saw it in his lava-hot green eyes. "Yes," I told him, and I did. I squirmed on my belly, as I clenched my thighs with need. This was so damn erotic. I stroked his balls and then his cock once more before I put the head on my tongue and wrinkled my nose as he gently pushed it deeper into my mouth, and then deeper still. It felt as though he had reached my throat, but surprisingly enough I didn't gag.

Salt and sweet mingled on my tongue, and then as I sucked him harder and then harder still, I took him into my mouth with relish because I could see his face, and the look of pleasure there drove me on. I found I didn't want to let go. I liked having his cock down my throat, and I liked him this way.

"Faster, harder ..." he said, and his hands were on my head while he pushed himself back and forth.

With a suddenness that left me surprised and breathless, he was out of my mouth and his strong hands had my arms as he lifted me towards him. He manipulated me into position, while he sat, a gorgeous hunk of man, and his voice was a steady stream of soft compliments as he set me in place.

I was always mesmerized by his looks, and now with that expression of passion and love I was beyond hypnotized. I was his.

His legs were spread apart as he brought me down and rammed his hard shaft inside me. He held my hips, and I met his thrusts with some moves of my own. I wanted to pleasure him, yes, but little by little I was discovering just how to pleasure myself with his body. It was beyond heaven.

"Yer eyes, love ... och aye, but I love looking into yer eyes when I make love to ye. Don't close them. I need to see ... aye, lass ... aye ..." he cried out as I worked his cock inside me.

It isn't an easy thing to keep your eyes open when you are being pleasured into another dimension. That was how I felt. As though I had slipped into another world where there were only the two of us and sensation.

He grabbed my rump and rammed me down and with his amazing strength, lifted and then slammed me down onto his shaft again and again.

We locked gazes as our movements linked into a perfect tango of hot dance, and suddenly I couldn't hold back. I had no control, but he said, "No, lass ... not yet ... no."

My release came in spite of his request. Earth-shattering, nerve-tingling release. My body convulsed onto itself with uncontrollable spasms. I simply collapsed onto him while his dick was still deep inside.

He had my rump in his hands, and he grabbed me hard and vibrated me while I continued to enjoy the aftershocks, and that brought on his own release. He poured his hot liquid into me, saying my name over and over.

He held me tightly and then buried his face in my neck as he took hold of my breast and breathed my name. He licked my nipple and then brought up his eyes to mine and said, "I want ye to look at me, Riley, and tell me ye want me for all time. I'm yer one, Riley ... make no mistake. I was a fool to think I could ever walk away from ye, and I'm afraid now I'll nae be letting ye walk away from me. Do ye ken?"

I stared into his burning green eyes as a new joy filled my heart. I was sure of it. He loved me. I was lost in this thought and couldn't speak, but when I didn't say anything he demanded, "Ah, lass, do ye mean to keep me waiting then? Can ye not say it so?"

" _You_ , Finn ... _you are the one_." I told him softly.

He snuggled me and softly asked, "Are ye hurting, love? Did I do too much ... _too soon_?" He sounded worried.

" _No,_ not hurting at all. I should be, shouldn't I?"

"Aye, lass. Ye were a maid ... and there is yer blood on the sheet saying that ye were ripped and should be sore. Ye say ye don't hurt? Ye aren't sore? I'm glad of it. Must have something to do with ye being a super-witch? Maybe built into yer DNA ... fast healing powers." His voice was low and thoughtful.

I laughed. "You sound disappointed?"

"No, puzzled, but pleasantly so," he answered.

I put my head against his chest, just under his neck, and he rested his chin on my head. I noticed his dick was still hard and dancing against my belly. I looked up as he looked down.

"What are ye wanting, lass?"

"Anything you can give." When had I turned into such a hungry whore, I asked myself while smiling at him.

"Och, lass, an immortal can go on for a very long time, so be careful what ye ask for ..."

"Why?"

"Because, ye damn well might get it!" he said and rolled me onto my back. This time, there was no foreplay as he said, "I'm going to fuck ye all night. Do ye hear me, Ri-lea ... _all night_." So declaring, he positioned his erection at my opening, shoved himself inside, and pounded hard and fast as he bent and told me hungrily, "Riley lass, I could live in ye—do ye ken, I could live inside ye."

"Yes ... yes ..." was all I could respond as he built up the pressure inside me.

"I love ye sweet life ... _I love ye_ , may ye forgive me this day's work!"

~ Fifteen ~

I DON'T KNOW when we finally fell asleep, but it was in each other's arms. At some point I woke up and quietly extricated myself, as I had to go to the bathroom.

His words haunted me. He had said, 'forgive me this day's work.' Why? If he loved me, why was our being together wrong? Why did he need forgiveness? What was it he wasn't telling me?

He was holding back something important. I had always sensed there was more to him than I was seeing and more than he was telling me.

It was dark, so dark, as though all the stars in the sky had been shut off for the evening. The thought made me smile to myself. Probably an overcast sky. I inched my way to the bathroom, where a nightlight helped me out.

When I got back to the bedroom my eyes filled with the sight of him propped up on his elbow, his rib cage rippled and so very fine. His tats on his biceps flexed, and I felt an intake of breath. He always had such a devastating effect on me.

He smirked at me and said, "Well, now, lassie, I tell ye frankly if ye are going to walk around stark naked looking like ye do, I am afraid ye will never make it out of this room. _Come here,_ woman."

I laughed and went bouncing onto the bed. He chuckled and told me hoarsely, as he grabbed hold of my rump and positioned me on his belly, "Ah, but ye have a fine, tight bottom, woman ... fine and tight." His hands roamed over my ass and squeezed me in such a way, and then all at once he gave it a quick spank that delivered delicious sensations to my nerve endings. His cock was straight up and bouncing when he turned me so that my back was to him. He was sitting with his legs straight ahead and he had me sitting on his belly.

He lifted me by my rump as though I were a feather weight and groaned loudly as he whispered my name and rapped my rump with his cock. He adjusted me into position to receive him as his other hand came around and took hold of one breast.

"Och aye, I like ye like this, lass ... just like this. Drive it home ..." he said softly.

Oh my gosh what he did to me.

He pumped into me while I bounced and saw the long mirror across from the bed and realized he was watching me ... watching my breasts bounce as he rammed and shook my body.

It was exciting. He was sensual and exciting.

He knew how to move, and I was lost to his ministrations as he filled me, rocked me, made me forget everything but him and what he did to me, and together we watched ourselves in the mirror. He had both hands on my breasts, and he tugged on my nipples with just the right amount of force. It sent shivers through my body, and my sex clenched around his erection.

He began playing with my rump, and I felt his finger slide over my crack before I lost it and climaxed with a force that caused my sex to grab his cock with the intentions of never letting go as I shattered all around it.

He made a feral sound as he stopped moving and held me tightly. What was he doing? This feeling between us was a mind-blowing experience. It rushed through my entire system and made me want to go on doing this ... just never stop doing this.

He groaned and said, "Riley. Ye ... ye are wondrous ... Riley, och, lass, but not yet, no, not just yet."

He pulled out of me then, suddenly leaving me cold.

" _What? No ..._ no _..._ don't stop now," I wailed. He had taken me nearly to the top of that mountain my nerve endings had been clawing to reach. I needed to go all the way.

He sat up against the wide, dark headboard of his king-sized bed, gently turned me, and said, "I want to look into yer eyes now ... so straddle me, angel lass ... straddle me now."

I got on him the way I would climb into a saddle and leaned forward on my calves so that the tip of his enlarged erection was dancing against the tuft of hair between my thighs. Our gazes locked hotly, and he held my hips in his hands. "Ride me, sweet Riley ... ride me now," he growled and lowered me onto that cock of his, and as he plunged up I went down hard and nearly squealed with delight at the sensations that shot through me. I was his sheath as he filled me, touched every sensitive spot, and moved in such a way that I did ride him harder than I thought possible.

He moaned and said in shocked accents, "Lass ... ye are so fucking strong ... och aye, but I love the way ye move. Ye were made for me ... _only me_." He swiveled my hips as I pumped faster, and then suddenly he slipped the tip of his finger in my ass. Just the tip, and my body was filled with a rocketing explosion of sensation.

There it was, oh, right there, the very top of that mountain I wanted to reach, and as I got to that pinnacle, my body imploded and I sank onto him, into him. His arms encircled me as he called out my name over and over and shot his hot fluid into me.

He held me then, again, still inside me and I had to wonder how he could stay so completely hard afterwards. Were all immortals built like that? Or was he special? _I thought he was special_.

He interrupted this thought with, "Ah, lass."

"Is it because you are immortal? Is that how you can just stay hard all the time?"

He laughed. "That has something to do with it ... but to be honest, I have never been like this with anyone ever before. I have never felt this way before. _Tis ye, lass ... all ye_."

I looked into his eyes "Then why do you think ... our being like this is wrong?"

"Wrong? Hell, bloody hell, woman, nothing about ye is wrong," he answered, and I heard the impatience in his voice. He wasn't being truthful. He changed the subject. "How is it ye were giving as good as ye got? That has me troubled. Ye don't feel any soreness?"

I laughed. "I feel a little sore __ ... but it isn't as bad as I have always heard it is supposed to be. It appears my inner witch is very strong."

"Aye, so she is, but, Riley ... still, ye were matching m'immortal strength, and I never heard the like."

I remembered the first shot of pain when he had entered, and then it was as though I immediately healed. No soreness, no pain ... just pleasure. I bit my lip and shook my head. The sheet was stained with my blood now dried, but I couldn't feel any achiness at all. I shook my head. "I have always been a fast healer."

"Hmm, this needs some investigating, sweet lass, for I don't want to inadvertently hurt ye ... in the future." He nibbled at my ear.

"Finn, tell me ... do you have an Irish accent because you lived so long in Ireland? When Prio shows himself ... will he speak English—will he have an accent. Is there something that will give him away?"

"M'Irish accent is really m'Rowan accent. We speak a form of Gaelic in Rowan and, oddly enough, a great deal of yer English in our Realm. I think that is because we are, in some ways, parallel realms. Prio then? Aye, he'll speak with much the same accent, but his voice is different ... a bit darker, lower ... very charming."

"Like the devil?"

He laughed. "Aye, like the devil he is." He shook his head and grinned. "Och lass, I don't know how I finally found ye ..."

"What do you mean, finally?"

"Well, it is said in our realm that we each have a true mate, but not all will find one's true mate, and so it is. I have never felt what some in our realm refer to as 'imprinting or bonding' until I saw ye. I think I knew it the moment I looked at ye."

He pushed me back onto the covers, and I had to wonder at it. He got on top but kept his weight off me with his hands on the mattress and used his knee to spread my legs. Then he was bending my knees back and pushing them up higher. It felt awkward, and I said, "What ... what are you doing?"

"What do ye think, love ... tell me, what do ye think I am doing?"

"Oh, Finn ... I know. You are going to fuck me," I said roughly, and I heard the excitement in my voice.

"No, _Ri-lea_ ... I'm going to make love to ye now ... sweet, tantalizing love, the kind that says I cherish ye and must find a way to keep ye for all time. I can't think of losing ye, lass ..." he whispered as his lips feathered mine. "I love ye, love ye, love ye. Do ye ken?"

A sweet, warm, blessed joy swept through me as I told him just how much that love was returned. I couldn't think about tomorrow or the day after that or the day when I would age and he would not. _Now ... we had this._

* * *

My eyelids fluttered, and the scent of strong coffee made me smile. Was it possible that a man like him, virile and masculine, could also make coffee? EeeGods, had I blasted myself into heaven? This had to be heaven.

I sat up, and there he stood in black boxer shorts, holding a tray of coffee and cinnamon buns. Oh, yeah, heaven all right.

I realized my breasts were exposed because I saw his gaze travel there and a smirk curve his luscious lips. Odd, in spite of all the things we had done last night—all night—I felt the blush hit my cheeks and hurriedly pulled the coverlet up and tucked it under my arms, effectively cutting off his view.

"Aye, best that you did that ... for I think we both need some coffee." He grinned wickedly.

Not only had he made the coffee, but here he was delivering the coffee and my favorite breakfast food—cinnamon buns—to bed.

I was certain that none of my friends, married or otherwise, had ever mentioned ever receiving such treatment, but then, none of my friends had bedded a hunky immortal. I grinned, and then, as he brought the tray to the nightstand, climbed on top of the coverlet, and dropped a kiss on my lips, I sighed because I knew no one could be allowed so much pleasure without some backlash on the way.

"You and the coffee ... a dream."

He laughed and then threw his head back and laughed again, "Ah, lass, I bless the day I found ye. I don't know how I lived before there was ye in m'life." I remembered all the things we had talked about during the night. All the declarations we had made during our love-making, and my entire body blushed hot. I didn't quite meet his intense gaze as I said, "Me too, Finn ... but now ... _coffee_." I reached for the mug and plate of buns he handed over. I placed the plate in my lap, sipped at the delicious hot brew, groaned. Oh, but I needed that.

He sipped his own and watched me as I continued to groan with each taste of the wonderful strong brew. He said on a low, soft note, "Ye keep making sounds like those, and we'll not be finishing our coffee, lass."

I laughed and then saw the heat in his molten gaze. Holy cow, how could he be ready to go again? A sudden, involuntary clenching in my belly told me that I was as well. I looked away and continued to sip my coffee, careful not to make any more sounds. I wanted to talk to him. There were questions roaming around in my mind that needed answers.

He smiled knowingly and said, "Have a bun."

I took one and watched him devour one while I nibbled at mine. Everything about him drew on everything in me. He shook me and all my preconceived notions about life to the core.

I was famished, however—more than I had ever been in my life—and after that first small nibble I totaled the remaining bun and then the next one after that.

He bent after he put his mug on his nightstand and kissed my bare shoulder. I looked at him and laughed. I could hear the joy from my heart reach and take control of the sound as I asked happily, "What are you doing, Mr. Immortal? We have things to do today."

"I'm doing what I must because, my sweetheart ... _I can_ ," he said softly with that charming, quirky smile of his. I was lost to this man. He had told me we were bonded—meant to be together, but how could that be? How could the fates be so cruel as to give him someone for only a human's lifespan and make him go through eternity after her death? It happened to humans, yes, but at least it wasn't an eternity, and then, at least _I believe_ , we are reunited in heaven. So it was cruel for me as well, as how could he and I be ever reunited in heaven if he was immortal? I couldn't think about that now. I just couldn't. I didn't want to ruin the moment.

"Oh ... are you?" I said on a tease.

Fred came bounding forward at that moment as he had managed to open the door, smart boy. He had visited us earlier but had quickly become bored and taken off for, we assumed, his morning exploration.

We laughed at his enthusiastic greeting, and he came to my side of the bed and put his head in my hands, demanding a petting.

"Hello, Fred, you need some company, don't you. Come on ..." I said to Finn. "We need to play with him and take him for a run." I put my plate on the nightstand and very comfortably used my magic to blink a towel around myself.

"Hey ... not fair, wee witch," Finn objected and blinked it off and gone.

I laughed, and as I ran for the bathroom heard Finn tell Fred, "Well, then, my man ... if ye have a mind for a run, lie down while we shower. Good lad, aye, we'll be as quick as we can."

Fred barked in response, and Finn laughed, "Right then, my good lad, I see ye have no confidence in my ability to be quick if I join our Riley in the shower, eh? Right then ... why don't ye go on down to the kitchen and see what a fine breakfast I have left ye, and we'll be right along, then."

I heard this and laughed to myself as I gave in to the comfort of the hot water working on my body. When Finn appeared he was naked, and he stepped in and took my hips. "Fred will be busy with the feast I left him ... so don't be making any objections on his account."

He made me hot and needy. He made me want even when I had made other plans for the morning in my head.

The ringtone of my cell phone blasted through the air ... super hearing, I thought, annoying at that moment. We both turned to the sound.

I frowned because I immediately thought of Aunt Alice. Finn is a gentle mountain of a man and said softly, "Come then, love ..."

He shut off the shower, and as I wrapped myself in a towel, he picked up my cell and flipped it to me. I caught it and answered, "Hello?"

Daniel Whitley's voice was hysterical. He made some blubbering noises as he repeated my name over and over.

Finn took the phone from me and commanded, "Daniel, slow and easy. Tell us what has happened."

I leaned up near the phone and heard Daniel say, now slightly more collected but still sounding as though he was in agony, "Mary Beth ... sweet Mary Beth _..._ it killed her, Finn. Just over an hour ago. _It killed her!_ "

I almost shrieked as my hand went to my mouth. I felt as though someone had plunged a knife into my brain. I couldn't think. All I could do was see the dear face of Mary Beth, one of my grandmother's friends and coven members. I had taken her home. She should have been safe!

Finn's face turned to stone right before my eyes. I saw a murderous look come into his eyes, and he said, low and authoritatively, "Explain, Daniel."

"She was on her way to the hospital in that old clunker car of her." Daniel caught a sob in his throat and the sound was heartbreaking. He collected himself while Finn remained silent and then added, "I was supposed to pick her up, but I was delayed, so she called and said she would go on her own." He broke down then and did cry. We allowed him his moment as I too began crying into Finn's bicep.

Finn said, "Daniel ... we are on our way. Where are you?"

"At the hospital with Alice. I didn't want her to hear it from the nurses ... " Daniel managed. "You see ... they found her car with its door ripped off and ... Finn, he mutilated her. Her blood was everywhere, and he wrote on the hood with her blood."

"What did he write, Daniel?" Finn's question was said in a grim voice.

"He wrote _Riley_ in blood, Finn, _in Mary Beth's blood_. Bailey is here trying to keep it all mum, but everyone is spooked. They think it is a serial killer, but, Finn, we know better, and this is out of our sphere. We don't know how to deal with Dark Magic."

"Aye, _ye don't_ , but ye are all going to learn," Finn said harshly.

"Whatever this is, Finn, it is stronger now. It has poor Mary Beth's magic, right? Did it take her magic?"

Finn said grimly, "Aye."

All I could see was a picture of Mary Beth, tortured as a monster ripped her apart. I felt sick, and suddenly the floor began to wobble beneath my feet.

I suppose Finn hung up the phone, because the next thing I knew I was in his arms and he was holding me up and steady and calling my name.

"I'm okay," I told him. This was no time for me to fall apart.

"Yer not okay, and this is all m'fault. I should have killed the bastard when I had a chance all those years ago." He stroked my cheek gently and said, "I've got ye, girl. Breathe, just breathe."

"No. Let's get dressed and get over there now, Finn."

"Aye then."

I picked up my clothes, blinked, and they were on. I turned and found him already dressed in a long-sleeved Lauren jean shirt and faded jeans.

In his roadster I couldn't stop myself from asking, even though I knew the answer. "Why?"

"Ye know why. He means to get at ye through yer coven. Whether ye like it or not, yer grandmother's coven has become yer own."

"Yes, but why Mary Beth—she doesn't have enough magic to attract him."

"Because she was probably the weakest. Her power wasn't really what he was after, though I imagine at this point he doesn't care how many he has to kill to attain more magic. What he was really after was _ye._ He wants to spook ye, Riley. _Has he?_ "

"Spooked? No, but he has hurt me," I said, suddenly full of anger. "And he has made me bitching mad!"

A dark look came into his eyes as our gazes met, " _Good_. That's real good, darlin', as it will serve ye, lass, it will serve ye well, as long as ye keep yer head about ye."

I didn't say anything to that. I had to think this out. This was my coven now whether I wanted it or not and I had to protect them. I would even if it weren't mine. I'd known most of these people for a very long time, laughed with them, took their teasing in my teen years. They were good and dear, and I had to find a way to protect them. I had let Mary Beth down. I should have had Finn spell her car. I hadn't thought ...

As though reading my mind, Finn said, "I didn't think to extend the protection spell to their cars. That is on me."

"But if ye gave each member of the coven a shield ... how did Prio get to her?"

"I don't know, and it has me half sick, it does. He should not have been able to touch her, let alone ..." He shook his head. "He found a way through to Mary Beth Higgins, but I tell ye now, lass, so rest easy, he won't get through what I have planned for their protection next. We will gather yer coven at m'place tonight, and we will work a spell, my family's very own ward that no immortal from Rowan can break."

I tried to blink the image of Mary Beth out of my mind and focus my attention on a way to destroy Prio. I was a mess. I wasn't sure what we should do next.

He glanced sideways at me and said, "Riley lass, ye do trust me, don't ye?"

"With my life, Finn."

"Then know I will protect yer coven. Tonight I will gather them all and, as I said, ward them specifically against Dark Magic."

"How do you know this time it will work?"

"As I said, I have something special in mind," was all he meant to say for he closed his lips and went into his head. I knew it, felt it. That bond between us was so much more than lust. It was a melding of minds.

"Good, and anything that involves killing this creep—I'm in."

He didn't answer me, and I could see he was preoccupied so I didn't interrupt his thoughts. What loomed in my mind was my coven. The members of my—yes, they were now _my coven_ needed his intricately laced dark and white magic, and if he needed quiet, quiet was what he would get.

All at once he said, "Ye bested him yesterday ... when ye got Mary Beth safely home. I know Prio too well. He couldn't allow ye to get away with that. He took it as a slight. He took it personal—as a challenge, so to speak. I don't think he meant to show his hand as he did by such a spectacular killing. That isn't like Prio at all. Prio is cunning. This wasn't cunning. This was rage, pure and simple. A demon's rage, so I am going to take a guess and say he has called on a demon to aid him. The demon will have drawn up a contract with him, and that makes this all even more dangerous than I thought it would be."

All at once we heard Fred. He growled low in his throat, and I looked out my window and then out the back window. I couldn't see anything or anyone that should have his fur spiked upwards like it was.

"What, Fred?" I asked as I continued to stare at the passing scenery. I felt my forehead with my palm and realized I was in a cold sweat. Something was wrong. I couldn't see anything at all, but something was definitely wrong.

"Fred, what is it?" Finn asked grimly.

"Has he picked up on our discussion? Is that it?" I asked Finn.

"No, lass, I'm thinking he senses something we can't see."

Fred was rigid, and he continued to growl low and menacingly. He either saw something we could not or sensed it nearby. Someone was watching us. "Finn ..." I said. "We are being watched. Fred knows it—hell, I know it."

"Aye, no doubt Prio is watching us through an Orb," Finn said in a matter-of-fact tone.

He wielded the car onto the hospital road, and Fred was now whining as though in pain.

"Holy cow ... Fred? What is it?" I asked, really worried.

My answer came slamming into my face, and I lost the ability to breathe properly ... hell, to breathe at all.

~ Sixteen ~

POLICE CARS COVERED the road. Red lights spun, as did my head. The area had been cordoned off with yellow tape, but the sheriff's son, Ralph, saw me at once, and raised a hand for us. We ducked under the yellow tape, and what I saw up close made me sick with heartache.

"She didn't suffer, lass. Believe me. It was over in the blink of an eye," Finn said. "This was the work of a Red Demon. They are vicious mercenaries and like to maim. As wicked as Prio has become, he isn't interested in this sort of thing."

"How do you know which demon did this?" I was horrified, shocked, and sick to my stomach.

Blood was splattered everywhere. I couldn't look at it. I couldn't think about what the demon had done to her. Suddenly when he didn't answer right away, I was angry, and the words came spilling wildly out of my mouth, "How do you know? How—how do you know?"

He held me close, although I fought him off. He just wouldn't let go, and I collapsed against him and cried quietly for a few moments.

"I just know. I have come across them—learned their habits in order to easily destroy them, and I have done that whenever I have come across them," he said on a hard note.

"Finn," I cried and pressed my face against his chest and felt his heartbeat.

"This scene speaks of rage, uncontrollable rage. Prio has no real fight with humans, but the Red Demons do. They have tried to conquer your Human Realm on many different occasions and in many different forms."

I sniffed and closed my eyes. "She had to have suffered," I said, and I felt the horror sweep through me.

"She never knew what hit her. So on that score rest easy. It was over as soon as it began."

"I am going to kill this Red Demon, and then I am going to tear Prio apart, and then when he is lying there in his own venom, I will cut off his head and feed it to the turkey buzzards!"

Finn's brows went up. "Lass? Where did that come from? Where is my sweet lass? What have ye done with her?"

I couldn't smile, even though his gentle teasing made me want to. I just couldn't. Not in the midst of all of this.

"Well, then," Finn said after lifting my chin, "if that is what ye want, m'love, then that is what I will let ye do, after of course, I destroy them both."

Then I saw my name on the hood of Mary Beth's old blue Chevy.

It was as Daniel told us, written in blood, and I closed my eyes.

Finn had bade Fred stay in the car, but I glanced his way and saw that although he had not disobeyed, he was extremely agitated. His behavior suggested something more than what we could immediately see. He was trying to tell us something.

Finn had produced and handed me some tissue, and I sniffed and swiped at my hose as I stuck my chin in Fred's direction, "Do you see him? He is really upset."

"Aye, he is distressed. He knows what happened, and I think senses what occurred. Fred has specific training in the matter of Red Demons." He sighed. "Look, lass, there isn't much more we can do here right now. We best go to him and head on over to Alice." He lifted my chin as he spoke and dropped a kiss first on each eyelid and then lightly feathered my lips with his.

He tucked my arm through his and led me along back to the car. As I got situated Fred was all over me, from the small specially equipped rumble seat at our backs. He couldn't stop licking my face and whining. It was as though he had been able to read my name written on blood on Mary Beth's car. He made these awful little noises as he displayed his concern.

"There now, lad, ye can see she is fine, can't ye? Calm down. There is no way we will let any Red Demon near her, is there?"

He answered by growling low in his throat, and I hugged him.

"How will we get him into the hospital with us, Finn? We can't just leave him outside?"

Finn smiled. "No one will see him."

I eyed him. "You can make him invisible?"

"Not exactly. I'm immortal, but I don't have that Fae ability. I can however, use illusion and protect him with a spell that will not make him visible to any but ourselves."

"Oh, yes, did you hear that, Fred? You can stay with us."

Fred grunted.

I was agitated by what I had just seen. I felt as though someone had beaten me and left me winded and hurt but not broken. I bolstered myself. I couldn't dwell on what she'd gone through. With any good luck, Mary Beth had died instantly as Finn had said and not suffered.

My job now was to stop this fiend from hurting any more people ... my people.

My inner witch raised her powerful head and demanded justice for Mary Beth and told me something else, something just out of my understanding.

There was a power deep inside me burning to emerge. I beat it down. I wasn't ready. I couldn't face it.

"Teach me how to fight a Red Demon," I heard myself ask Finn.

"So I shall," he answered and took my hand in his. "So I shall."

I wondered what he was thinking as I saw a faraway look come into his eyes. I had to stop thinking now. I simply had to give myself a break. I had to get rid of the picture of Mary Beth's blood ... her blood spreading my name over her vehicle.

Could I have done more? I wish I had done more to protect her.

What had happened to my life? One minute I was working with Betty and running a fantastically successful infant-wear store. I was an outwardly normal person—yes, pretending I suppose that I wasn't magic and that I could have a normal life.

But a make-believe life is just that. The real one plucked me out of my 'normal' fantasy and took me on a journey, and this was where I landed. I was equipped to handle it. I knew I was equipped, and somehow I had to find the courage because I simply had to. I was about to take charge of my coven's safety and well-being, and I had decided that I would go through hell and back to do that.

* * *

Sheriff Bailey had posted a guard at Aunt Alice's door. The rumor was purposely spread around that the 'book club' my coven purported to be had received death threats from some unknown madman. _Why,_ people asked him. He replied, how could any sane person understand and dissect the brain of an obviously insane killer?

Finn at my side was a solid mountain of wisdom. He had Sheriff Bailey contact all the members of my coven and tell them to meet at his house at eight. We then went to each member's home and together enacted protection spells he said would prevent a Red Demon from passing through. Now their homes and their vehicles were warded specifically against attack by Prio or a Red Demon.

I asked Finn to drop me off in town, as he was headed with Bailey back to the crime scene. I heard myself say crime scene in my head and felt the heat of anger build up inside of me. It was so much more than that. The killing of any innocent is so much more than the taking of life. It is the destruction of their family unit, the obliteration of all that innocent still had left to do. Thinking about the Dark Immortal Prio made me so angry and resolute. It no longer mattered why he was hurting and killing, and I blamed him for her death. He was the one who brought the monster here to do his dirty work. He was the one who needed stopping. The Red Demon was just one of his tools.

I told Finn I was headed over to Jim's for groceries for our evening meeting, but the store was packed, so after he dropped me off I changed my mind and decided to take and walk and clear my mind.

Finn had insisted that I take control of the coven, and I want to, but how? What did I say? How did I tell them everything would be okay, when I was not sure it would be? _With the truth_ , my gut answered. _Tell them what they are facing._

My sigh felt as heavy as my head.

I walked the length of Main Street towards the water, where I hung over the railing of the short but quaint bridge our little town boasts. It was soothing staring at the water, and I was there just looking at the quickly moving current for quite some time as it bubbled over rocks on its way to the ocean. So prettily and neatly edged with wildflowers, and for a long time I just stood taking it all in. Nature can soothe a witch, but then something—call it a witch sense—made me straighten and turn around.

Down Main Street, some distance from where I stood, but quite visible with its attractive black awning was a shop I didn't frequent. That shop is Smythe's Curio & Gift Shoppe.

I felt something catch in my throat as I watched Finn step out of the shop.

Sally Smythe is my age. We went to high school together. This was her mother's shop, but her mother had been unwell for quite some years, and Sally had taken over the running of the shop.

Sally and I weren't friends. Somehow, even with all we had in common—the _witch thing_ —we didn't like one another. It wasn't an active dislike ... or was it? I wasn't sure.

Sally had what I would call a chip on her shoulder. It was as though her life had not gone where she had intended and she blamed the world for it.

It wasn't only Finn that stepped out of the shop. Sally was with him— _very with him._

I watched as she took his hand. He didn't pull out of her hold as she turned him with a tug and a laugh.

Pain even though it isn't of the physical kind can rip you apart without drawing blood. Jealousy is painful and does not allow for logic in the moment of its heat. Jealousy hits and creates a picture in green, and that picture can have only one conclusion. My grandmother used to have a saying, 'believe none of what you hear and only half of what you see.' I had never tested this, and in that moment, what I saw was real.

I couldn't quite hear what she said or what he answered as she went up on her toes, for even though Sally was model height, she had to get up on her toes to put her arms around Finn's neck.

He did not remove her arms.

If a man held me the way Sally was holding him, and I didn't want him to, I sure would remove him. Why wasn't he pushing her off? He didn't push her away. _What ya see is what ya get_ , I told myself. _Here is your player. He loves you? Oh no, that was all bullshit—just bullshit._

She kissed him, and I think I felt something break inside me. Granted it was no more than a peck, but her lips met his.

Then he got into his roadster.

She went around to the driver's side and leaned in. I couldn't see or hear more than that.

I couldn't take this. I felt as though someone had just hit me in the gut and then poked me in my lungs so that all the air was slipping out. I couldn't breathe. I simply couldn't breathe.

I ducked into the parking lot at my right and tried to get control of myself. I think for a moment, as pictures of us making love slammed me with a picture of her lips on his, that I might even have passed out. _Okay, okay, you aren't such a wimp. Breathe ... focus ... forget it for a moment and find yourself._ My inner witch had vanished, and all I had was me. _Go to logic._

Finn had made a point of telling me he didn't think I should come with him. He had said he was going off with John in the sheriff's car and that there was no need for me to look at all the blood again.

Yet, here he was with Sally. He had lied. He had pretended that he was going off with John Bailey and instead came to visit Sally.

I felt my throat constrict as my mind examined the possibilities. The possibilities this evoked were simply not pretty.

I am not jealous by nature, but just at that moment I was so hit with the green monstrous thing that it traveled into my brain and left me with only one conclusion.

He had said he loved me. I had allowed myself to believe him.

I couldn't think as my heart and head went to war with each other.

I stood, my fist in my mouth in a parking lot for goodness sake. _Get it together_ , I told myself when a voice at my back said, _"Riley_ _!_ Hi. What are you doing? Are you okay?"

I turned and managed a smile at Whalen Mackey and answered, "Catching my breath. I walked a bit faster and longer than I intended."

He looked at me questioningly but smiled, and then his face got serious. "You in town because of poor Mrs. Higgins"

"Yes," was all I could say.

"I don't get it. Why would anyone want to harm the old gal?"

_Okay, talk to him, forget what you saw and try and be yourself._ "Because he is crazy. A crazy killer without conscience, morals or empathy," I answered angrily.

He put an arm around me and gave me a sympathetic half-smile. I leaned into him for a moment because my whole world was exploding right before my eyes and I honestly felt like my knees were going to cave.

"Come on ... you need to relax." He eyed me. "Where were you headed? Maybe we should walk together?" He took my arm and offered, "You know what? I was just on my way across the street ... headed for Jackson's Music Shop. I have a party of twenty coming for the weekend and want to set up some live music. Come with me."

I saw his Jaguar in the parking lot and knew I needed something to settle me. "Okay," I said, and he took my elbow and led me out of the parking lot, off the sidewalk, and across the street.

We went into the music shop, and I listened for a bit while Jackson and Whalen made arrangements and then made my way towards the door. "I think I'll head on out, Whalen ... see you later."

"Wait ... we're done here, right, Jackson?"

Jackson agreed and said he would call him later to finalize the details. Whalen took my arm again and walked me outside. I turned to him. This was a bad idea. I should not have stayed with him. I needed to get away and ... no ... I needed to confront Finn before I smacked him into the next universe.

"Wait ..." Whalen said and pulled me in by my arms.

"Wait? What are you doing, Whalen?" I frowned up at him.

"Riley, don't brush me off, please. I really want to see you again ... Can't you see how I feel about you?"

"You don't even really know me," I scoffed, "But I will tell you that when you do, you will know that it isn't wise to grab hold of me like you are doing."

Oddly enough, he didn't let go. He said, "Riley, you excite me. I'll bet you are a delicious storm in bed."

"If you don't let me go, you'll get a storm you don't want, here and now!" I said on a hard note. He had definitely picked the wrong time to mess with me.

He wasn't put off and, instead, pulled me closer. I struggled with him. I always have to be careful not to use my Wiccan strength; however, I didn't have to.

All at once, as though making good _on my_ promise, a storm erupted, and that storm was Finn Dunraven.

"The lady asked ye kindly to release her. I'm not offering the same," Finn growled as he pulled me out of Whalen's hands and stuck me behind him.

I could take care of myself. I wasn't going to be in the middle of a street brawl, and at that moment I wasn't giving Finn the rights to anything to do with me. I took that moment to stomp off.

I heard Whalen snort and very clearly say, "Looks like the lady doesn't want either of us!"

Like a bullet finding its mark, Finn was beside me. He had his hands on my shoulders—hands that had just, as far as I was concerned, been holding another woman.

I had learned how to build a fort around myself in the past. I had come to grips with the death of my parents, the fact that I was a witch, and now ... unexpectedly my fort had taken a direct hit by the name of Finn Dunraven.

I felt the cannon ball pound into my gut. I felt a knife pierce through my chest and assault my heart. I couldn't even meet Finn's eyes, but out of the corner of mine, I saw anger in his. _Anger?_ How dare he be angry!

I couldn't believe it as he actually shook my shoulders, and then I did bring my eyes up to his, and I know they must have held the indignation I felt.

I was hurt, and the hurt turned into fury blotting out any and all explanations he might offer me. I believed what I'd seen.

He suddenly dropped his hands and looked at me. Confusion filled his eyes. Ah, of course; he didn't know yet that I had seen him with Sally.

He said, "Whoa, lass ... _what is it_?"

"You haven't the right to interfere in _my_ life—you just threw any and all rights away!" I could barely contain what I felt or really even express it. I felt as though foam were filling my mouth, like a mad dog. At that moment I was blind with rage to the point where I actually thought I might hit him with everything I had.

Finn frowned, and his voice was low and hard. "What the devil is wrong with ye?"

"Did you find anything at poor Mary Beth's crime scene, or were you too busy with Sally Smythe to get there?"

Finn took a step back and looked across the street to the Smythe Shop, where Sally stood at the window curiously watching us. _"Oh-ho_ , is it that, then?" He put back his head and laughed.

_He laughed_. Holy shit, but I pushed at him with more power than I intended, and he even stumbled backwards a few steps.

Damn him.

I was breaking in two, and he laughed. Outrage was a mild word for what I felt. It was a good thing he had fallen out of range, because I wanted to kick him in the balls.

He put up his hands as though to say he knew better than to try and smooth this away with a hug and said, "Riley _, ye silly woman_ ... it isn't like that at all."

_Dammit!_ Wasn't that what men said when they were caught in me bed cheating outright? _It isn't what it looks like?_ His words came nowhere near fixing the problem. Instead, they added to it. I was sure I had been played—all night, all morning. I shouldn't have given my heart ... but then, the sudden realization was, I hadn't given it so much as it had jumped into his hands in total surrender.

Right then an explosion in my head took place. I turned inward and only knew that I wanted to escape. I wanted to be elsewhere. I wanted to be on that trail I always loved walking on in the preserve—the one that ran along my land. I had come to terms with myself on that trail; I had come to terms with the finality of loss.

I blinked, and suddenly it was as though I were swiftly moving. It took only a moment, only a step, and it was as though I were in a cocoon and then walking out onto that trail ... the very trail I had just imagined in my head.

What? Impossible. How did I get here?

I looked around myself in total disbelief. What the hell had just happened? One minute I was engulfed in pain, and the next ... there I was on my favorite hiking trail.

How did I do that? Was I hallucinating? Had it all become too much for me? Had this journey I had unwillingly entered finally made me lose my mind?

I stood there on State land, on the peak of a narrow trail high above the town, higher even than my own acres, and looked around in disbelief.

This particular spot was where I had always come to find some peace. It jutted right up to my land, and it was an easy fifteen-minute walk back home from this point. At the moment I was too stupefied to think. I was completely at a loss to understand.

I just stood there, only a hundred feet away from my own land.

Like an idiot I stomped on the ground to see if it was real. I pinched myself next, and didn't wake up to anything different.

Holy good gosh! How did I get here?

And then, as though things weren't bad enough, a movement caught my eye, and I looked up and felt downright and complete fear take over as I focused on the vision before my eyes. A Red Demon, his fists clenched and steam emitting from his alligator red skin, stood naked—which is not a pretty sight. It didn't move towards me, so I took a step backwards, trying to reach my warded land, but that step took me slamming into something big and hard.

~ Seventeen ~

THE SAYING GOES, 'never judge a book by its cover'. Another one I have always heard is the one about a wolf in sheep's clothing. Yup, I never really thought about those old sayings until I turned and looked up and into the eyes of pure male beauty.

Standing before me was a hunk of an _angel_ with huge white, iridescent wings.

His hair was blond and long, but he had it tied with leather at the nape of his neck. He was tall, incredibly handsome, and, in fact, he almost glowed with charm. Charm was in his black eyes and his aura—charm, just as Finn had said. But Finn hadn't told me the whole had he? Finn had not mentioned anything about wings.

I had now a Red Demon at my back and this winged guy at my front.

I was in a pickle. Hmm, worse than that.

Prio's huge, strong arms went around me, and I struggled, noting that the tats on his biceps were an odd Gaelic design. I wondered what they meant, and then someone in my head—not my witch, me, the real me—translated the runes. They meant Honor and Lead.

Like what?

_How could I know that?_ No time to think about it as his wings retracted at his back and he picked me up, slung me over his shoulder, laughed, and told the Red Demon, "Begone."

I couldn't see, but I heard a low, anguished growl, and Prio said, "There, he won't bother us now."

As I struggled and watched his wings expand, the next thing I knew we were in the air. I mean like up he went, up, up, and I told myself that I must have slipped and hit my head and was having a nightmare.

As we glided I thought absurdly of the TV program _Dominion_. Sure, that was it. I was unconscious and dreaming. In my dream, Prio was wearing a white T-shirt, jeans, and silver-tipped boots.

He had wings and an enticing, angelic appearance. He was Prio the evil, so why did he look so handsome and kindly in my dream?

He and his Red Demon had viciously mutilated Mary Beth and had nearly killed Aunt Alice. If it hadn't been for Finn ... oh, Finn.

_Wake up_ , I told myself.

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

The truth hit me between the eyes. I was awake, and I was in the air, flying with an angelic-looking monster.

All at once, he soared and dove, and then we were on the ground. We were in a deeply wooded and rocky section of the Preserve.

He slid me down against his hard body and said in a soft voice, "Ah, yes, it is obvious why ye have captivated m'dear Finn."

Okay, back to the theory of dreaming. I had to say, "Your dear Finn?" I pinched myself again, and, yup, still there.

He puzzled when he saw me pinch myself; then with what appeared to be sudden understanding, he threw his head back and laughed. I took the opportunity to run.

Suddenly I was encircled with some kind of a wire netting and couldn't move. I was scared but just as furious, and with a thought the wire netting was gone.

His brow arched, "Well, well, magical little witch. What else can ye do?"

All at once I saw past the pretty façade to the darkness that he was and involuntarily took an unsteady step backwards. Had he brought me to the Preserve? Was that what had happened? Because by this time I knew I wasn't dreaming. This was real. Very real.

"Are ye afraid of me, Riley Doogan?" he asked in a soft, cajoling voice.

" _Shouldn't I be_? After all, you are dangerous, aren't you? And I did see my name written in blood on poor Mary Beth's car. So, gotta say, not too happy to meet you alone."

He put back his head once more absolutely roared with laughter. I watched, not sure what to make of this.

He said at length, "We have here an interesting situation. Ye know of course, who I am?"

"You are Prio." And then because it fell out of my mouth before I could stop myself, I added, "And I suppose you brought me to the Preserve for a reason?"

The next thing I knew he had my hand and had dragged me at super-speed up an embankment and into a cave. Inside the dimly lit cave he said, "I heard some hikers, and it is m'wish not to have to leave a trail of bodies. I like m'little hideaway for now." He considered me as I looked around and tried to think of a way to escape. "Ah, so now we have the question—did I bring ye to the Preserve?"

I studied him. He obviously hadn't a clue how I'd instantly appeared between him and his Red Demon. "Well, did you?" I stalled for time.

"Ye know I did not. I see it in yer speaking eyes. Ah, lassie, hell and brimstone, but I will enjoy taming ye ... for a while."

"Sure, right, like that is going to happen."

He glanced at me, and his face wore a thoughtful expression as he said, "Well, then, I know and now ye know, I did not transport ye here. So then, pretty lassie ..." He reached his hand towards me, but oddly enough even though I jumped out of the way and expected him to pounce, he did not. He kept his hand palm towards me and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was not smiling so confidently. What the hell was going on?

He said, "Riley Doogan is it? Well, now, now that I have ye so close, I can feel it pulse off ye till it burns the air. Ye are an odd mixture, aren't ye? I ken the witch ... but more ... a great deal more."

I shrugged. "No, that is what I am ... _a witch_ , but a damn good one," I said and immediately tried to take control of the situation by demanding, "What do you want, Prio? Why come at us this way?"

"Me—?" He shook his head, and his black eyes glared angrily. "It wasn't I who picked the fight _. It was yer grandmother_. Did she not call Finn to return? I did not come here to engage in a battle with yer coven. I came to wait out m'time ... _wait on the Sacred Stone_. Yer grandmother set Finn on me. I warned her when she was about to contact him, but she didn't listen."

" _You killed my grandmother_ _!_ " This was what I had suspected. Now I had confirmation of it, and it was a hard, painful drill that tore through me.

" _She needed killing_ ," he answered. "But ye don't. If ye behave, if ye stand beside me, we could do well, ye and I."

Rage, pure and violent, filled me, and all at once my hands and arms were stiffly stretched in front of me and the power that came out of my fingertips was so potent it was visible. It was a jagged blue energy, and it sent Prio flying backwards high in the air. When he fell to ground he was momentarily stunned, and I remembered my wand. My Rowan wand that could slice a villain's head off with a mere thought. How did I know that? I had never had such an inkling of that before. I pointed my wand and said, "For my grandmother and Mary Beth!"

He vanished before my wand connected with him, and his words on the wind were hard and cold. "Do ye think ye, a Wiccan, can hurt a Dark Immortal Wizard? _Ah, Riley, think again."_

I felt his arms encircle me, and the next thing I knew he had me once more. I sent my wand off for the moment to be recalled later as he tied my wrists at my back.

* * *

He slammed me into the stone wall of the cave, and I hit my head hard. I was dazed but only for a moment, and I hope I was able to indicate how much I despised him with the glaring, hard look I directed his way.

With my wrists still tied I ran to the other side of the cave, where I undid my ties with a blink.

He said, "Ye shouldn't have been able to free yerself witch ... what are ye?"

"A super-witch. I'm told I get it from my father," I answered with a sneer. I was, however, wondering where all this new power was coming from. It was as though something in me had discerned the danger and decided it was time to take over.

The ground was cold earth and veins with small rocks. Where had he taken me, and why was it so familiar? I looked around, and my mind went high tech on me, did a GPS, and got a fix on where I was.

Ah, one of the many caves the Preserve boasted to tourists. I knew just where I was and exactly how to get home. The question was how did I get past him?

Okay, right now, things didn't look good. However, I wasn't dead yet, so what I needed to do was keep it together and find a solution to my present predicament.

He was busy in the cave, collecting a stash of what appeared to be artifacts and ancient relics. While he did that, I thought about where I was and who might miss me. Well, yes, my coven would miss me, but even though Finn was a lying, cheating player who had taken my heart and stomped on it, I did think he might wonder where I had vanished to. I had left him on the street ...

My thoughts were stymied as I noticed that Prio held a familiar object in his hand. I stared at it. _I knew that relic_. It belonged to Sally Smythe's mother. It was one of her most precious relics, and she had often said that even though she had never been able to get it to open for her, she would not sell it.

It was a Fae Orb. My grandmother said she believed it to be an arcane Seelie Fae Orb.

"How did you get that?" I demanded angrily.

"Ye are in no position to question me, but as it pleases me to tell ye, I shall," he said. "Sally and I became close, very close. I paid her handsomely for it, though her mother isn't yet aware it is gone. I also paid her to seduce Finn, and there ye be, Riley lass. She is a beautiful woman, and was pleased to do as I asked. Finn didn't tell ye about her, _did he?"_

"You already have the answer to that, otherwise you wouldn't try to taunt me with the question," I snapped at him.

He laughed, and I wanted to kill him. How could anyone so beautiful be so evil?

He stretched out his exquisite wings, flapped them, and drew them in again. I was momentarily diverted as I watched him conduct this exercise. _Keep him talking_ , I thought and as I sized him up as high in the ego department, I decided to keep him talking about himself.

"Why is it you have wings ... but Finn doesn't—since you are from the same place, that is?"

"Because I am from the land of the Argles. We are a small state in Rowan, but there was a time when we ruled ... _when my family ruled_."

"And now?"

"And now, we shall rule once more. The queen made a serious mistake when she married my father and thought that Finn and I would grow close and that as brothers I would be fooled. Finn has m'father's Argle heritage in his blood, _but he isn't pure._ I have many followers, and we shall take back my world."

I was stuck on two points. These two entirely different immortal beings were _half-brothers!_ And the other point was that Finn was the son of their queen ... which meant _he was a prince._

~ Eighteen ~

LIE BY OMISSION—never really thought about how shattering this kind of lie could be. Wow, Finn had been lying to me from the start. I had always felt he was holding back. He and this monster were half-brothers.

A lie by omission allows you to believe in something that isn't true or to hide what is true. _Same thing as a lie_ , at least in my book, and my book was the only one I was reading at that moment.

So what did I have? Finn was a cheat and a liar and a prince in his realm. _What did that mean?_ It meant that obviously I was a poor judge of character when I was without my ability to scan someone, and that was completely disheartening.

How could I have been so wrong?

Why hadn't I picked up on something?

Prio cut in on my cogitations, his voice insistent, "Riley, listen to me, Riley." Suddenly he had me in his arms, and I thought I would puke as I shoved him with magical strength across the cave. He hit the stone walls of the cave hard. He bounced off, unhurt.

He laughed and put up his hands. "Right then ... I won't lay hands on ye yet. Riley, what I want is a compromise."

"Go to hell!"

"I'm already there, darlin' lass, but I'm thinking it would be so much more fun to have ye there with me."

I was in trouble. I wasn't on warded land, and he could fly. How could I outrun him, even with witch speed? Think! I had to think.

"Aye, I see ye are trying to figure out a plan of escape. Ye can't escape me, but I do mean to let ye go after ye agree to m'terms."

I could agree, and then ...

As though reading my mind, he shook his head and said, _"No, Riley_ , that won't work. Ye can't agree and then betray. I will know, and it will cost ye someone ye care about."

"Cost me?" I could at least hear what he thought it might cost me.

"Aye, I don't mean to hurt ye if I don't have to. I would much rather have ye on m'side. I want to return home. I want to take m'rightful place on the throne. M'stepmother doesn't belong there. A great many of my race agrees with me. Help me, Riley, get home, come with me, rule with me for the human years ye have, and I shall spare ye the people ye care about." He fingered a few artifacts that lay haphazardly on a long table he had apparently set up in his little cave hideaway.

I looked around and tried to behave as though calm and collected while I was anything but. "That Orb you have," I said, changing the subject as I stalled and looked for a means of escape, "I know that it is Seelie ... I am surprised you know how to use it."

"Aye, but it responds to the immortal in me though at times it is stubborn," he answered on a frown.

"It is repulsed by the dark ... as I am," I answered at once. How did I know that? I knew that. Probably my grandmother had taught me that.

"Are ye. Yer little friend Sally isn't repulsed by the dark. Ah, a fine piece of flesh and blood. I have enjoyed my time with her, as I am sure Finn has as well."

I wanted to spit in his face. I said instead, "Sally is many things, but she wouldn't associate with the likes of you." It was true. I never liked Sally—less now, but I didn't think she would go Dark.

"Wouldn't she? Ah, but she has. I didn't even have to threaten to hurt her mother to get her in bed. I wanted her to perform for me willingly, ye see." He sighed, "At any rate, I noted she had a tendre for Finn and told her to seduce him and keep him busy for me." His eyes glittered as his gaze met mine.

I felt my heart react, I thought I heard the painful crackle as it split in two, and I tried not to see Sally and Finn together in my mind's eye. Sally and Finn were lovers.

"Aw, wee darlin lass, did that hurt? Come to me, Riley of the violet eyes, and I will make it better."

" _Drop dead,_ " I told him. I wanted to rip his tongue out. When had I become so blood-thirsty? What was happening to me? I ran an exclusive infant-wear shop on Fifth Avenue. I wasn't this person ... _or was I?_ Maybe the person who conducted her high-end successful business in New York wasn't real. Which was real? Both? How could I make them meld into one?

"No, that won't work. Ah, Riley, don't ye see what ye are? Don't ye see what we could be together? We will rule this earth and my realm in unison. We will put an end to the stupid little wars your race engages in. I don't mean to hurt too many of your precious humans, but they do need controlling _and I will control them."_

"Shut your filthy mouth." I had to find a way of throwing him off balance. Get him angry, that would work while I searched my Wiccan brain for a solution to my problem. That voice, that new and powerful female inside my head, said, " _Your witch can't help_ , but I can ... _I'm the one."_

_What the hell?_ Who was that? Did I have split personality syndrome in my brain? Where had she always been?

He laughed. "Feisty wee bitch, aren't ye? Well, well, think on it sweetheart. Ye will be my ... what shall I call ye, ah, my First Lady, _not m'only_ , but m'first." He found this amusing and began to laugh. His wings opened up and nearly took up all the space at his back in the narrow cave.

"Ah," he said with a long sigh, "That's better. My wings needed a full stretching."

_I needed_ to keep him talking. I had to recoup. I had to find some ability I didn't know I had and escape. "What makes you think Finn won't be able to stop you?"

"Because I am superior to him, of course." He snorted. "Finn is weighted down by ethics and morals _. I am not_. I know what needs to be done, and I do it. It is the goal that matters, not how I get there."

Suddenly it dawned on me—who was I listening to? Prio? A brutal killing monster? He had no ethics ... by his own admission. He said that Finn did. Okay, so how did I reconcile everything?

I looked at him and quietly attempted a scan, and what I got before he shut me out was one, single truth.

Ethical? Finn was ethical? Was it ethical to say you love someone—and keep them in the dark, when the 'knowing' could help keep them safe? Was it ethical to say you love someone and go to another woman the very next morning?

Finn was a prince in his realm ... and he had kept that from me. Not only an immortal, which would make our future next to impossible _, but a prince_. One day he would return to his realm, and I would forever have a heart that belonged to a man who didn't really exist.

He had told me we were stamped on one another's essence. He had said that we were bonded, mated, but the truth now slapped me hard. It had all been a lie. He wanted my land. He wanted to keep me enthralled until he got my land. He and Sally were lovers.

I had actually begun to tell myself that he and Sally might be over and that there was a logical reason for his having been with her, after all. What an idiot I was.

But now, now I thought he really had played me from the start. He had told me what I wanted to hear. _Ethical_ —ha!

The answer hit me in the heart. _He needed you to sell him your land. He paid you an exorbitant price to assuage his guilt._

I found this all so stunningly impossible to believe, which made me angry at myself. I still loved him so much that I found it all completely hard to swallow ... but the truths were evident, so evident.

None of this fit. Yet here it all was slapping me across the head.

"Riley ..." he said and put his arms around me. "Be mine, walk beside me."

"Even if I believed your lies, do you think I would ever want to walk beside you?"

"To save yer own, ye might," he answered sharply. "Walk beside me."

"I'm not trading in one devil for another," I said, thinking of Finn in a way that hurt. Damn him, damn Finn. I wanted out of his arms. I wanted out of the cave. I wanted away. _I wanted home_. I could see my bedroom in the home I had shared with my grandmother. I wanted to go there and hold something of hers. I had to get back there ... _I had to._

Suddenly I felt a sensation like being cocooned again, of gliding, stepping through, and there I was, standing on the pretty woven blue and beige rug in my grandmother's bedroom!

I fell to my knees, and everything that had been welling up inside of me burst out!

~ Nineteen ~

I DON'T KNOW how long I'd lain curled up on my grandmother's little oval blue rug, crying like a baby, when I suddenly heard the rush of air and looked up to see a portal opening.

Finn Dunraven stepped out of the storm. In his fist he held a lethal-looking blade that looked to be about eighteen inches. Even through my tears I noted the intricate pattern of the bronze hilt. I smirked to myself and sniffed away a tear _. Probably a royal prince's weapon!_

Finn flicked his wrist, and his sword vanished. His strides were hard as he came at me—for me. His green eyes looked as though they were filled with fire. _He was furious._ That fact totally confused and momentarily disarmed me.

What the hell? He was angry? Why should he be angry?

He had my shoulders in his firm grip as he went on his knees on the oval rug with me. He gave me a slight shake before he demanded, "What the hell, Riley— _just what the hell?"_

I should have slapped him across his all too handsome face. How could he question me when he ... he had lied to me, cheated and ... and ... lied to me.

I dug deep and found a semblance of calm, though I realized this was only a momentary cover-up. I was about to go into an uncontrollable fit. "Ex- _cuse me_?" I answered as I scrambled to my feet and my full height, not that it meant much against his.

He was up and towering over me as he growled, "What happened to ye, lass? How did ye manage to vanish from me like that? And why did ye go off? Riley, what the hell, Riley? Or have ye super-speed ye forgot to mention to me?"

His pretending not to know what he had done and not done was way too much. Just way too much after what I had just been through. I poked him in his hard chest, not a good idea as my finger gave way and hurt for a second, but only a second and not long enough to curb my tongue or my temper.

I zeroed in on one thing. "I haven't mentioned? What about you, mister? Like, not only are you an immortal, which nearly puts the coffin cover on anything we _might_ ... just might have had together, but you are a prince of your realm and will no doubt have to take your place there one day! _Bam_ ... so much for us being bonded. But—oh yeah, that wasn't really the truth, was it? No, how could you and I be bonded when you had another lady in the wings?" I felt like I was on fire and ready to explode. "So, _you and Sally, huh?"_

I knew that matters stood at life and death. I know that my priorities were way out of line, that I should be telling him about my encounter with Prio, but I had one thing on the mind, or actually in the heart. I was in a state of 'feeling'. _It was all about the heart._

He frowned and said, "What the devil is wrong with ye, woman?" He shook his head and sounded so damned sincere. "There isn't _me and Sally_ —there never was a 'me and Sally, and if there was, why would I lie to ye about it, as it would have been before there was an us. No, lass, there was never Sally and me ... never."

I clicked onto this with a hope I didn't know I could have had still inside me but wagged my finger like an irate schoolteacher. "But instead of going with John Bailey as you said you were going to do, you went over to visit with Sally instead." I was tapping my foot now with pent-up energy as though daring him to lie.

He did something then that completely through me off balance.

He threw back his head and gave over to mirth. He laughed. He laughed.

My mouth dropped, very naturally, quite open, and I hauled off and slammed him with both open palms. He went flying backwards, caught his balance and came back at me, took me roughly into his embrace, and kissed me as though he couldn't breathe another moment without me in it.

I didn't want to respond to that kiss. I didn't want to allow him to know that I still loved him. I wanted him to think I was calling it over and done, but somehow, as he parted my lips and gently stroked my tongue with his and then not so gently demanded my response, I gave it to him.

However, I was made of stronger stuff than that. It couldn't be about pleasure. There had to be more. I wasn't sure what more, because in that moment, as he kissed me, pleasure like that seemed quite enough.

I yanked hard out of his embrace, almost stumbled backwards because he immediately let me go, and then found his hands on my arms steadying me.

"I don't understand how ye left or where ye went, because the first place I searched, lass, was here, and ye weren't here then. I scanned for ye ... and ye were no place to be found, but listen to me, _and listen well,"_ he said roughly, and our gazes locked. "I have eyes in m'head, and I saw at once when I came to town that Sally was not only a lovely woman but interested in playing with no strings attached. I didn't want her then, and I don't want her now. Why ye should think so ...?"

He put up a hand to stall my next words and added hurriedly. "John was called away. He went off careening in his police car. He told me he didn't know when he would be able to meet up with me again. So I drove over to Jim's Market to find ye. It is where ye said ye were going. When ye weren't there, I slowly drove up Main Street looking for ye, love. Sally was just coming out of her shop and waved me over. I may not want to bed her, but I'm always polite, love. I stopped to chat about her mother, nothing more." He shook his head. "Here is the thing. When I first got to Sutterville, well over a year ago, yer grandmother asked me to look in on Mrs. Smythe and see if there was anything I could do _to help heal her_. She was suffering the cancer, and while I can't cure it, I could help her with the pain. So I went in and did just that about a year ago. Sally and her grandmother were grateful. We became friends of a sort. I did keep my distance, as I didn't wish to be drawn into something ... uncomfortable, and there was something about Sally that I could nae like. Can I nae have female friends? I understand, because I tell ye true, lass ... I don't like it when ye go on with yer so-called male friends."

Every word he said was true. I couldn't scan him, but that new voice in my head, the one who opens the world for me with a thought and gives me the power to travel in a flash from one place to another, she whispered to me that he was telling me the truth.

I sank into his arms and then remembered he had still lied by omission to me, so I backed away, and up came my finger once more and wagged. "Should I call you Prince Finn Dunraven?" I put on a show with my pointer as I put it inquiringly to my lips and said sarcastically, "Oh, no, I know, maybe you would rather be called ... _hmm_ , Prio's brother?"

His face lost its color, and this time, _he stepped away from me_. It was as though I had stuck him with a knife. When his words came they were lined with something I had not expected, grief. He sounded full with his grief.

"How could ye know that?" His voice was hushed.

"Because when I found myself in the Preserve, by the way, it seems all I have to do is think of where I want to go and want it real bad, and poof, I'm there ..."

"Shifting. Ye can shift? I have never heard the like. Only the Fae can shift. It is a Fae quality. It is how they travel."

I thought about this and dismissed it. "Well, I don't know how I do it, I just started. At any rate, I thought about the trail I used to hike to get away ... and, bam, I was there and standing between Prio and his Red Demon."

"Holy Fates, lass ... are ye well? Did he hurt ye?"

"No, he doesn't want to hurt me. He wants to bed me and take my powers for his own." I shook my head. "Never mind that. He was staying in a cave, but I am sure he left after I escaped. His demon, by the way, he can make leave whenever he wants, so he seems to have some kind of power over it ... and he has a Fae Orb. That is how he has been watching us, though it doesn't always work for him."

His eyes opened wide, and in one fell movement he had me in his arms. His kisses covered the top of my head, my eyes, my nose, brushed up against my lips, down my neck, and back to my eyes. "Lass, lass ..." he said, sounding beside himself. "How did ye escape him?"

"Never mind that. You are Prio's half-brother and, what ... you didn't think I needed to know that?"

He picked me up—straight up, his arms pinning mine to my sides—and he planted me on my grandmother's bed and put me in a sitting position. I felt like a puppet being wielded by the puppeteer. He then totally disarmed me by getting down onto on knee and taking my fingers in his. He kissed them while, open-mouthed, I stared.

When he brought his eyes up to mine, I saw a tempest of emotions.

What was this? What had happened? I decided to give him a moment, but I watched his face as he got his thoughts in order.

His voice sounded as though he were at war with everything he knew and felt as he said, "Ye have no notion what this has done to me. Prio and I shared the same father. He is older, and for many years I looked up to him. I had reason to love him ... nae ... admire him, be grateful to him. There was a time when I was a brash young lad full of m'self, and Prio swept in, his wings making him look like an avenging angel, and he would rescue me from being battered by those I had ... insulted. I loved Prio. Do ye ken, lass?"

I saw Prio as Finn must have seen him when he was a boy. I nodded. "Yes ... I ken. Go on."

"I was no more than ... let's call it the equivalent of fourteen in human years. Our time is very different than yers. Right then, it was when I was a teen that Prio began to change. He was, oh, in human years, about twenty-five and had in Rowan reached his majority."

He stopped as though looking into the past. I nudged him. "Yes?"

"My mother was a strict disciplinarian, and when we ... she lost m'father, she became withdrawn and less affectionate to either of us. I had Prio, but he ... he never really liked her, and he learned in those years to hate her. She was thoughtless, Riley. She didn't give him his due. He was the first born of her husband, and her husband was an Argle. They are a proud race. Prio had followers, and he took an opposite political point of view from her. Their disrespect for one another became loud and clear, and our citizens took sides."

"Which side were you on?"

"That's just it, Prio's points of view on many matters had merit. _She wouldn't listen_. She was, however, my mother. She wasn't a good mother, and I think at times she wasn't a good Queen. She had loved Prio's father, and losing him took its toll. I think he was a steadying influence on her. I don't think she did the right thing by his son. At any rate, Prio turned to the Dark Arts, as did his followers, most of whom are winged like himself and proud to be Argles. They think they should be running the government, and at one point, I thought he and his followers were in the right of it. I renounced my position as heir to the throne. I had to take a stand, ye see, and it couldn't be because I loved either one of them. I had to do what was right for my world. I decided to become a Guardian ... so that I could help Prio survive m'mother."

"But?"

"But m'mother thought the throne should go to me. She would not accept my abdication." He shook his head. "I made it clear to all that I would not step up as she wanted. I didn't want to be the head of the government. I am not interested in politics and such. I thought it was time for an Argle to rule ... but I didn't think it should be Prio either. That angered him."

It all became clear to me now, but I still had a beef with him. "Why keep me in the dark?"

"I ... we ... well, being immortal already posed a problem to us as mates. I have an idea about that, but I haven't got it all worked out in m'head. I thought if I told ye I was a prince and that Prio was m'half-brother, ye would run for the hills and never look back. I didn't want to lose ye, Riley, not now that I have found ye."

I had told myself that his lie of omission was unforgiveable. I had told myself that there could be no explanation that would satisfy, and here I was not only understanding his reasoning but swiping away all my anger and calling myself a 'stiff-assed bitch'. I flung myself at him and hugged him around his neck as I saw his eyes blaze and his nostrils flare. He excited me beyond my understanding or my will to stop such unpliable sensations.

He got off the bed and pulled me up and into his arms. I wrapped myself around his waist, my legs hooking at my ankles at his back and I buried my face against his neck.

He walked with me out into the hall and said, voice low and tight, "Right now, Riley love, I want to rip off yer clothes and slam ye against the wall and ram myself into ye and never leave."

I laughed, kissed his mouth, and whispered, "Then what are you waiting for?"

He didn't laugh and didn't speak, so I brought my head up and looked at him. I could see he was struggling to say something and asked, "What?"

"Oh, lass, lass, I tell ye now don't ye ever do that to me again. Ye can't swish off like that and leave me to worry. Ye have a newfound ability, and I am that pleased ye do for it will help to keep ye safe, but, Riley, ye can't go off and away from me. Ye can't. _Do ye understand me?"_

"Well ... I ..." I don't take orders very well, and his tone wasn't a plea; it was a command.

He growled, "Riley!"

I scrunched up my mouth. I wanted to reassure him, but I didn't want to make a promise I might not be able to keep.

The next thing I knew he had stomped with me hard down the hall and into my room, but he didn't take me to the bed. Instead, he set me up against the wall, hard so that he could glare into my eyes.

"I'm not asking, I'm telling ye, Riley ... this is not negotiable between us," he said, pressing himself against me.

I dropped my legs, but as I then found myself still up against the wall with my feet dangling a few inches off my carpet, it served no purpose ... and now his hard shaft was pressed against me.

The next thing I knew, I was naked, and I felt my breath come in short spurts. I could hear his breathing, and it was ragged.

"What are you doing, Finn Dunraven?" I said in a low voice, hoping that he had dropped the subject of my vanishing act.

"I ... why, what would I be doing, love, but taking ye hostage for a promise?" he said on a hard note.

I laughed. "And how does that work exactly?"

With me against the wall and naked, he scarcely moved his eyelids, I know because I watched, and oh, yeah, he was naked as well, and his huge erection danced just below my belly, just above my tuft of hair.

"Oh, lass, my own little innocent ... let's see just how this will go," he said on a low, sensual note.

I was a mass of burning nerve-endings. I was hot for him, and my body was moving into overdrive. It needed fuel, and he was that fuel. He had excited the hell out of me with his challenge. He meant to tease me into a promise. Oddly enough, that was something I could live with. Better than cowering to a command—right?

"Och, woman, do ye know what ye do to me?" he moaned into my ear as his kisses began making a trail down my neck and then up to my mouth, preventing me from answering.

I didn't want to answer. I wanted his mouth on mine, and I kissed him back hard and wild. I was raging with need, starving for his kisses, and my tongue found his. He always tasted like vanilla. How was that possible? Everything about him drove me insane with wanting.

He broke away from our kiss and told me, and his voice seemed wrenched from him, "Ye taste like sweet berries and honey, love. Ye taste so good, so now tell me, what do ye want?"

The feel of his erection made me use the wall to pump against him and tease, "Och, aye," I told him with as much of a brogue as I could muster, "I want this."

"Aye, I want ye to have it ... _but not yet_ ," he answered roughly.

He lowered me so that I was on my feet on the carpet, and then his palm went between my thighs and lifted me slightly. The pressure of his palm there, right there on the spot as one finger dipped inside and teased my clitoris, drove me mad with desire. I squirmed in his hold and felt the pressure build as the muscles in my sex clenched his finger.

I rocked my body against him as my need for more of him built up to a peak that demanded release. Every nerve-ending was throbbing because of his gyrating palm.

He stopped and I opened my eyes and realized I didn't even know they had been closed. I saw his molten green gaze on me and heard his hoarse, hungry words, "Tell me, Riley ..."

I thought he wanted me to 'talk dirty'. I had always heard that was what men enjoyed. To tell the truth, it was sexy as hell, so I said, "I want you to fuck me."

I saw a flicker of something that looked like anger—frustration before he said, "Och aye, so I shall, but is that all ye want to tell me?"

What the hell was this? Why had he stopped? I wanted him to let me finish. I had been so close to release. So I said, "Do you want to hear how good you are? Well, I don't have anything to compare you to, but my body tells me you are a really good fuck."

There it was, that flicker became an all-out expression, and it was rage. His face contorted with anger, and I was surprised, or was I? Had I said that because I knew he wanted to hear something else entirely? Yes. I was still angry with him. He had still lied by omission, and I knew that somewhere in my head I thought he had gotten off too easy.

I should have told him that if we were to go forward it had to be facing the hard-line truths of our situation, and we did have a situation. Just no getting away from it. However, apparently, I had gone too far with my tease. He was more than angry. _He was hurt._

His lip curled, and, oh my, although that made him even more delicious to look at, I saw the pain spread over his face before it vanished, and that hurt me. I did that. I couldn't stand that I did that.

He took my waist into his large hands and lifted me straight up, and said, his voice harsh and primal, "A good fuck, am I? Ye don't have anyone to compare me to, _is it_? Well, lass, ye never will, so rest-assured, aye, I am a good fuck ... _make no mistake_."

He embraced me against himself as his lips nipped mine, and then he slammed me against the wall again and, this time, held me high enough so that when he took hold of his enlarged shaft he was able with one free hand to shove it inside of me.

I was flooded with sensations as he moved in a way that drove me wild. There it was—we were joined in an aura of ecstasy as with unimaginable strength he held me and pounded into me, and then suddenly he withdrew.

I whimpered, "No ... Finn ... don't stop."

He answered, "Aye, then, a good fuck, ye say? But there is more, isn't there, love? Tell me true, tell me more." He rammed himself back inside me, and I trembled with pleasure as his cock filled me and moved against the walls of my vagina in a manner I had not thought possible in my present position.

"Isn't ... .that ... enough?" I managed to say between moans of pleasure as my insides built upon the sensation he had drawn to a peak. I was there ... right there, ready to implode when he withdrew from me again.

"No, don't stop now." My tone was that of a woman in need.

All at once and in one fluid motion, he had my naked body over his one big shoulder, and as I struggled against his handling me like this, and I said his name with some indignation, he gently spanked my naked rump, plopped me on my bed on my belly, spread my legs, and spanked my cleft, apparently visible enough to him.

The sensation vibrated through me to all my pleasure points, and I moaned with need for more. Everything he did to me was feral and erotic. He made me tingle with need. I didn't want him to stop.

He covered my naked back with his naked chest, and his hand massaged my ass as his lips were at my ears and whispered, "Tell me, lass ... tell me what more ye want from me, for I'm bent on giving it to ye whether ye say it or not."

I was I in heat, I was in love, and I tried turning my face to his. He helped me by turning me over and onto my back and clasping my face with his hands. "Oh, Finn ... _I want your love_ , I want it all."

"Aye, then give _me yers_. Give me yer trust, lass ... it has to be a part of it all, do ye trust me? Ye can't go leaving me in the lurch sick with worry. _Ye can't_. I wouldn't do that to ye, ye can't do that to me. I promise ye that, so promise me."

"I promise," I said on a hushed note. How could I not when put like that?

"Aye, then," he said and lifted my knees. "Finally ... now to taste yer sweet honey-box."

Making love with Finn was all consuming. He took me in ways that were totally, wantonly sensual, and although his words were tender, my needs I discovered required some rough and ready attention.

I liked him to pound into me. I liked the explosions he created inside me, that sweet release, the aftershocks, and I was, he said, insatiable. I realized something as we fucked and then made sweet love in alternate patterns that fed on one another. _My stamina was not normal._

Somewhere in my mind that new voice that had arrived when Prio had me in the cave said, D _o you see, Riley ... do you understand ... a human wouldn't be able to make love like this ... not even a witch could take what he is giving and give what he is taking. Do you see?_

What did that mean? I couldn't think about what that meant. All I wanted to do was fuck as hard as I could with this incredible immortal.

His voice was wrenched from his lungs as he breathed into my ears and drove himself inside me, deeper, deeper still, "Riley, I love thee, Riley lass. Ye are mine, and I won't let ye go. Do ye hear me, sweetheart? I won't let ye go. I'm going to find a way for us. I promise. Do ye ken?"

I did. I knew there was no way. How could there be? He was an immortal, and as strong and powerful a witch as I knew I was evolving into, immortality wasn't in my blood. But I knew he was grasping at hope, so I nodded and told him, "More, Finn ... just give me more in the here and now!"

~ Twenty ~

MY COVEN? YUP, I told myself, all mine, and damn if I was going to allow any more of them to be touched by Prio's evil.

Everyone arrived promptly at eight o'clock. I set up Finn's long dining room table, which looked more like a conference desk, spread out with food, and had teased him about it earlier.

He had said, "Not mine, ours, and if it doesn't suit ye, lass ... change it, change anything ye like. Redecorate when we are done with Prio."

"But ... won't you be going back to your world?" I asked, sick at the thought.

He took and kissed my fingers. "What do ye think, lass? My world is ye. I'll be going where ye go. If ye would like to visit my home in Rowan, I'll be that pleased, I will go arm and arm into m'world for as short or as long as ye please. I am not constrained like Prio. I can come and go as I please."

"Yet, all these years, you never went back?" I was puzzled. "You could have gone and visited your mother."

He sighed heavily and then snuggled his chin on the top of my head. "Ye are always so full of questions. Well, I suppose that was one I was going to have to answer sooner or later. Aye, I could have gone home, but ... m'mother and I, well, as ye know, we don't quite agree on many, many policies." He shrugged. "I'm not interested in ruling, and she isn't interested in m'point of view. I can't stay silent when I believe her policies are ... uncomfortable for many of our citizens."

"Has she always been at odds with you?"

"No, not when m'father was alive. He had the knack of making her see ... somehow, I don't have that knack, and obviously, Prio didn't have it either." He sighed again. "Sadly, her unwillingness to bend made Prio what he is today. He turned to Dark Magic to stop her from making Argles second-class citizens in our realm, which would have negated their ability to rule in their own quadrant."

"And did he stop her from instituting such a backwards policy?" I was shocked. How could my Finn be so kind and generous and his mother so stiff-necked and cruel? And, yes, making anyone a second-class citizen is barbaric.

"No, but he gained all the Argles' trust and backing, and then there was civil outbreak, and his followers left the cities and took over the rural counties. My mother's army refuses to take up weapons against them, and with good reason. They—the Argles—are a beautiful race and were once the rulers of our Rowan. My mother keeps them at bay—but only at bay."

"How do you know all this?"

"I have a window into my world. I keep tabs on things," he said. "Fae are not the only ones with magical artifacts."

"And you, Finn, where do stand in all of this? _Do you have_ followers?"

"Aye, and I have told them to stand down. Prio is my half-brother. The queen is my mother. I have always hoped Prio would find a way back to himself and that my mother may see the light. Now that he is killing innocents that is no longer a possibility for my brother. Now, he must be destroyed."

I hugged him then. I knew first-hand what Prio was. I had looked into his eyes and seen that they were not the only things as black as coal. So was his heart, if in fact, he had retained a heart.

I said nothing about this at that moment, because the knocker sounded and the coven began arriving in small groups.

We didn't spend much time with idle chatter and socializing, as Finn asked me to call the meeting to order and then stood at the head of the table, where we both were. I remained seated and watched him expectantly. I hadn't a clue what he was about to tell them.

"Ye know, of course, that Prio uses black witchcraft, but what I hadn't realized before is that he no longer just uses it. He is the Dark. He has an agenda, and the only way I can keep ye all relatively safe is if ye leave town at least till September is upon us."

Everyone began speaking to one another at once. What Finn was asking was only a possibility for those of the coven that were older and retired. The younger members had jobs and lives.

Sheriff Bailey stood up and said, "Much as all of us would like to get as far away from something we apparently have no ability to destroy, most of us can't."

"Right, but those that can, I am hoping ye will. Those that can't, well then, I've made a few trinkets to help keep ye safe when ye are out and about. I don't say they are a failsafe, but I do say these will make it difficult for him to come nigh ye."

He handed me a box and said, "Darlin' lass, will ye pass these around then?"

I remained silent. What could I say? Nothing. When I touched the pendants on their silver chains I felt the pulse of power, and it was white magic at its purest. My inner witch seemed calm and satisfied.

I returned, and Finn took up my hand and continued, "This should be over within the next ten days. I should have Prio shackled and in prison—or dead."

I heard the utter sadness in his tone as he said this last. He had loved his half-brother, but that person no longer existed. What he faced now was only his brother in outward appearance. All the rest wasn't even flesh and blood—not really. He had turned into a demon in every nuance of the word.

When the meeting was at an end and we walked everyone to their cars, the sheriff held back, and as we waved them off he turned to Finn and said, "Okay, we have these pendants ... but what about the non-Wiccan people in our town? Will he go after them? In a fit of rage, won't the devil strike out at them?"

Finn sighed. "I don't think so. Too much time and effort. He wants to usurp the coven's magic. He thinks, wrongly so, but he thinks my lass here derives her power from the coven. She doesn't. Hers is a thing apart. We have the weapon of surprise in our pockets, and I mean to use them soon."

Bailey left, and Finn turned to me, "Tomorrow we go into town and make certain the deed has been transferred into my name. I have already wired the money to your account, so that seals the transaction."

"Oh, holy gosh," I exclaimed as I remembered. "I have to call Betty ... if nothing more than to say hello."

"Aye, and tell her, lass ... ye mean to open a shop here in the fall," he commanded.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bossy Prince. I am making the call, about the business that _I_ own with Betty ... and what I do or don't do ... is my business."

He laughed and put up both his hands, palms facing me, "Whoa there, lass." He eyed me appraisingly and then took my shoulders, and I was already relenting, moving in to him, allowing that lilting Irish accent to wind its way around my brain.

"Och aye, yer business, but is it nae m'business where we both will be when this is done? Is it nae m'business where I am hoping ye will decide to be?"

"You gave an order ... not a suggestion," I said, running my hand up his chest as I looked into those wondrous green eyes of his.

He took my chin with his forefinger and dropped a light kiss on my lips. "Then ... it is a suggestion. Take it as such. Do ye not know how much I want to go to sleep with ye at night and wake up with ye in the morning? Do ye not know what pleasure it will be for me to walk in m'closet and find I haven't any room for m'clothes because yers take up every bit of space?"

He wanted me to live with him. It flashed through my heart, and I nearly burst with joy. We were in the middle of what was in all essence a war against black sorcery and all that entailed, and here I was, a mindless, happy girl. This was insane, making plans like these when we didn't know if we ... if I, would live through the next couple of weeks. I found the words stuck in my throat and had to clear the passage before I was able to whisper, "No problem there—I have never been a clothes horse."

He hugged me then, hugged me hard, and rested his chin on the top of my head as I laid my cheek against his hard chest. I never wanted to take one step away from him. Here, in the security and wonder of his embrace, was just where I wanted to be.

"Och aye, but I plan to fill it with anything and everything ye have ever imagined ye would like to wear," he said.

I had no words at that moment. I was glad, because he bent and moved my face into position with both his hands as his lips covered mine and his tongue—his delicious tongue joined mine, and the party in my mouth made my belly clench with need.

His kiss—his luscious, delicious kiss took me into a world where I was already entwined with him, where in my mind's eye I could see his enlarged, hard cock at attention and ready. Oh, I was in heat for him. Such heat. My hand strayed over his hip, across his thigh, and I grabbed him neatly, longingly at his crotch.

He grabbed my fingers and pulled away from that kiss and whispered, "Go and call Betty. She'll be worried. Ye tell her whatever ye like, but remember, I mean for us to be together one way or another."

I gave him an arched brow and pulled out my cell phone.

~ Twenty-One ~

SOMETIMES I FIND myself doing something I know is stupid. I absolutely know it will have at the very least, some uncomfortable consequences, but that wayward lady inside me convinces me that I need to do it just to retain my independence.

Whalen walked up behind me and put his arms around me. It was a loose, friendly embrace that I knew was just a 'flirt', so I turned and smiled as I pushed him off without hurting his pride.

"Hi, Whalen," I said and continued to pick put the fresh fruit I was at Jim's market to pick up. "What's up?"

"Have you got a minute for a cup of coffee?"

I didn't. I wanted to get the fruit and get over to my house and my grandmother's secret hiding place. I wanted her journal, now more than ever. Something was wrong with me. Well, not wrong, but different. Each day I felt a certain 'wellness—newness' growing inside me, infiltrating my blood, even my organs. I needed to read my grandmother's journal.

Finn had dropped me at the hospital so that I could have a visit with Aunt Alice, and he had said he wouldn't be back for me for an hour or so. They had taken Alice down for a test so I decided to take a walk and ended up at Jim's market.

Time for coffee? I knew I should get back to the hospital where Finn would be sure to be back for me soon. Also, Finn wouldn't like it. It would be like him having coffee with Sally. Right, that put an end to me having coffee with Whalen just to be nice.

Right. So I said, "We...ll..." It has always been difficult for me to tell people no.

"Come on, just one cup. I need to talk to you about something."

"I have to get back to the hospital, I was visiting with Aunt Alice, and she should be done with her MRI by now." Something else bothered me. Not just the fact that I actually didn't want to go for coffee with Whalen. Not just the fact that I knew it would upset Finn, and it would. Something else. Something about Whalen. _He seemed odd_ ... different. Even his scent ... and just as I realized what that residue scent all around him was, I felt a hard nozzle in my side.

Through his sweater pocket he jabbed a gun right up against me. He put an arm around my waist and with the gun poking me said, "Walk with me, bitch."

What was happening? I looked up and into eyes that were blank. Whalen had been compelled. I knew it. I had picked up the scent of Dark Magic. _Damn Prio_. Why not do his own dirty work?

"I don't think so," I told him. "If Prio wants me dead, you would have shot me already. He doesn't care about you, Whalen. He doesn't care what the consequences to your life would be. So, no, not going with you. But maybe if you concentrate you can break away...concentrate, Whalen."

He snarled, "You have to ... if you don't, I'll start killing everyone in here, _one by one_."

Okay, I hadn't seen that coming. Had to get him out of the store. "Calm down, come on then, you want coffee so bad? Let's get some coffee."

"Coffee isn't what you are going to get," Whalen answered. "And Prio told me to tell you, shifting away won't help. He'll send me on a killing spree with this gun he gave me. So if you vanish, everyone dies."

_In a fix_. I was in a fix. Or was I? I grabbed Whalen's lapel and said, "I know you are in there, Whalen. Don't let him do this to you." I was stalling. Whalen was only a mortal, and one without magic. He couldn't fight the compulsion spell, but I knew Prio could see through his eyes, so I used this to hold onto him, and the next thing I did was think about leaving—and that is what we did. I shifted, not just myself but Whalen as well.

Now he couldn't kill everyone, and with any good luck I would find a way to break the compulsion spell. What I didn't expect was that the suddenness _would make Whalen's gun go off._

We were at the Sacred Stone, and with my last bit of strength I pushed him flat back against it, and an aura engulfed him. He dropped the gun like it was on fire and said, "What the hell ... where ... how ... where am I?"

I saw that Prio's compulsion spell had been destroyed the moment Whalen touched the Sacred Stone. How had I known that would happen?

Blood poured out of the wound in my chest, and suddenly everything began to spin all around me. Blue glowed and white flashed over the scene, and I thought I would die and never see my Finn ever again.

And then Finn stepped through his portal and rushed towards me. I knew I was in trouble then because I was crumbling in on myself, but he caught me in his arms. I could see my blood flowing freely and pooling at my feet. I saw the anguish on his face.

He lowered himself onto his knees as he kept me in his arms and sobbed, "I've got ye ... I've got ye, Riley. Riley love, Riley—ye can help me heal ye." He turned towards Whalen, who even through my blurry vision looked dazed and confused. Finn's voice was a clap of thunder as he shouted, " _What have ye done?_ "

"Compulsion, Finn ..." I told him and was surprised that my voice was scarcely a whisper. I tried for more, and the effort was so great. "Prio compelled him. The stone negated the spell. Finn, look at the stone now—why is it doing that? It is opening a portal ... Finn ..."

"Riley, heal—just concentrate on healing yerself with me." He held his hand over the wound.

Nothing happened. His healing power wasn't working—and my secret healing power hadn't kicked in either. Blood continued to pour out of me.

I knew I was dying, but I managed to sound stronger than I was. "Finn, you have to stop him. Finn ... I'm fine ... just stop him from leaving!"

The bullet had been my death blow. It had lodged in my heart. I knew Finn's healing power couldn't reverse that in a human. I collected the last of my strength to tell him, "I love you, Finn Dunraven, and I'd live with you anywhere."

My eyes closed against my will. I wanted to keep looking at his beloved face, but a black fog engulfed me and the pain in my chest seemed to suspend itself as I sank into the deep fog. Death, I thought, was a release I didn't want just then. I had thought I would have more time with Finn ... just a bit more time.

Oh yeah, my human had died, but that mysterious and powerful other me had sprung to life not only in my brain but like an army of healers inside my body.

"Riley, without ye beside me I can't survive. Riley, stay. Riley, please stay. Live for me. I know ye can do it. Find it in ye to stay ... Riley—save me. Save me, Riley."

I could hear him. Did that mean I wasn't dead? _Come on now, you know where you are_ , she said in my brain. That other me ... the one who knows how to shift and do things a witch shouldn't be able to do.

My eyes opened with a snap. _Focus_ , I told myself, and I immediately focused. Something inhuman in me had taken over.

All at once my body had already begun to heal itself as though a little elf had gone inside me and had begun knitting veins and sewing up torn muscles.

I felt the pressure of the bullet as it pushed out of my heart and cried out in anguish as it pushed through muscle and flesh. The pain ravaged my thoughts for a moment when the bullet shot out of my body, and as it dropped to the ground, I gasped for breath.

I pushed up on my elbow and found Finn's arms around me as he sobbed out my name. I held onto him, sure I would never let go, when I caught a movement at his back.

Prio held a lethal-looking sword poised to kill!

"Finn!" I screamed.

Oddly enough, Prio didn't engage Finn, who jumped to defend us both. Instead his half-brother laughed and turned back to the Portal the Sacred Stone had opened as Finn chased after him but then stood down because no matter how powerful he was as a royal prince of Rowan, he could not withstand the force that stormed and swirled between Prio, the Portal, and himself.

I watched, as I was still unable to move, and felt sick to my stomach because I suddenly realized that Prio had no intentions of going through the Portal.

The Portal was a swirling mass of energy as Prio raised his sword in welcome and joyfully shouted to the heavens, "My brothers ... my Argle brothers ... _come!_ "

Five winged warriors emerged. They were all large, clothed in leathers, and looked as dangerous and powerful as Prio himself.

They touched swords before they opened their wings, took to the heavens, and were out of our sight.

What the hell? I looked towards Finn, who put a hand to his head in disbelief. I saw that poor Whalen had passed out. I closed my eyes.

Prio had tricked us. He never had any intention of going back—not just yet. He and his five warriors meant first to conquer the Human Realm and then return to take on the queen. It all came together now in my head.

Finn was back at my side, touching my cheek.

I could see my question mirrored in his dear green eyes. _What are you, Riley?_ We both asked it of me. What the hell was I?

* * *

I knew now that I was no longer human, but I just didn't have the answer to what the heck I was.

I had to get to my grandmother's journal, and then ... how were we going to stop these all powerful immortals?

### Find out what happens next to Riley and Finn in

Journey—The Reckoning

TIME TICKED BY ...

Only an hour had passed since my shower and in that hour my life had taken a drastic plummet into the unknown.

I don't know how I am supposed to feel.

I don't know how I am supposed to think. Who am I? How could I feel so well when only a short while ago I had been nearly dead? Everything I understood about myself and the world had just exploded right in front of my face. In fact, I was certain that part of me, had in fact, died.

Showered and refreshed I gave myself a quick look in the mirror and realized, Finn was right. I looked vibrant. My long black hair which always seemed to shine with highlights in the past was now brilliant with blue-black lights streaking through it. I wasn't sure, but it seemed I had grown an inch because I looked taller. What the hell has happened to me?

What was it that my parents and my grandmother had _not_ told me? Why had they kept me in the dark about the magic I owned but did not understand? What was this power inside of me? What was it they didn't want me to know?

Prio's face loomed in my mind. How, just how would we contain Prio with his back-up in the force of Argle warriors?

We had barely been able to contain Prio and his one Red Demon! Now, would he call an army of Red Demons? Finn had said they were mercenaries—what would he do to get what he wanted? How were we going to stop Prio? He had Dark Magic at his fingertips and those hefty _winged_ and _magica_ l warriors at his back, ready to do whatever they were told. Would they do what they were told? Would they slaughter humans to conquer the Human Realm? Would they harm the innocents?

Finn hadn't left my side. He had even showered with me. He has been treating me as though I am fine china and he didn't mean to take any chances of my chipping. He held me steady in the shower, he soaped me down, he washed my hair. He was a big immortal and yet tenderly gentle.

Now, he took my hand and asked me, "Ready?"

"Yes," oh I am ready, so ready. I have to find out what secrets my family had kept from me because I am now certain they had.

Shifting, I step out with Finn's hand in mine right into my grandmother's room and stare. How often I had gone to her at night and we would talk. Why hadn't she told me? What was it that was so awful that she hadn't found it necessary to tell me?

Hand in hand we walk and face the open closet. Finn draws a smile from me. I don't know how to tell him how he makes me feel because what I feel for him is so totally encompassing that words just don't come easily. Love is a word people throw around, but when you meet it, touch it, and know it, the word becomes a world.

"Finn ... back there by the Stone, I noticed one of the winged guys exchanged a look with you ... almost a nod. Were you friends?"

"Aye, we were friends."

"But they are killers?"

"No, lass, not in the true sense of the word. They are Argle Warriors. They guard their State from outside forces ... but, in the last five hundred years, they guarded it against attack from the queen and the queen's army."

I was surprised, "They were able to do that?"

"They had the advantage. The queen's army would nae attack them. It is against their code to conduct civil war ... even for the queen."

I have to think about this. Something about what he said would help us. I am not sure how we are going to approach the future or what we can do to stop these Argles from their war against humans, but I know we will try.

At the moment, however, right this very moment, I need the journal. I can't go on not knowing what I really am and the answers I am looking for are there.

As the secret door reveals itself to me I put a hand on his arm because the answer to this might help us, "Finn ... do they know? Do Prio's men know that he has become a Black Sorcerer?"

"I don't think so, lass ... I think he hides it well from them. They follow him because he gives them an honest reason to do so. Hell, m'mother gives them reason to follow Prio ... "

"Why would they want to conquer the Human Race? They want to dethrone the queen ... so why not just go in and declare their rebellion?"

"I cannot answer that, love. My race has never been interested in going out into the Universe and conquering. I don't know what he has promised them would be the outcome. We will have to wait and see."

"Yes, but they are only six ... how can they stand up to all our world?"

"They don't need might, lass ... they have magic. They can use illusion to make an army aim for a non-existent target as they take control. They can use compulsion on yer world leaders ... they can threaten with terror the likes of which have never been experienced." He shook his head, "And let's not forget the Red Demons. Their army is formidable."

"Would they? Would those five honorable warriors call on Red Demons?"

"They might as long as they had control of them. They won't allow harm to come to women and children, but to human men?" He shrugged. "I nae know the answer yet."

I accept that for the moment. There is no other explanation. With Finn's hand at my back, I take a long drag of air into my lungs and blow it out before I reach for the journal. It glows as though pleased to see me.

I grab it and hold it tightly against my chest, daring any supernaturals to try and wrest it from me.

I know that she has a message written inside for me. I have come to understand that everything I have done has led me here. There is a story inside the journal— _my story."_

I can't believe I haven't retrieved and read her journal before this moment. It has taken almost dying to get me to center myself on what is important. I need the truth because I no longer believed that I am just a witch.

No putting this off any longer.

### Want more stories with Immortals, Fae, and Witches?

### Try Claudy's Legend Series, starting with

Prince Prelude—Legend

~ Prologue ~

ACCORDING TO THE humans' _Encyclopedia Britannica_ , Fairy is a race of supernatural beings who have magic powers and sometimes meddle in human affairs.

(I must agree, and I meddle more than my brethren.)

It goes on to explain that we are well known in Ireland, Scotland, and Wales and that we are very powerful and sometimes dangerous beings who can be friendly, mischievous, or cruel, depending on our whim. Sadly, it is true.

The human reference advises that we occasionally take human lovers, as the Fae find human sexuality inviting and are drawn to the passion humans possess. However, it cautions, Fae, unlike humans, are immortal. True again.

History has called us the Tuatha Dé Danaan, and we're also known as the Seelie Fae. I should like you to know more about who we are. You see, the truth is we came long before the written word put us in Ireland at 1000 BC, and we are so much greater than the written word can describe. We are, to a one, quite stunning—and I am even more captivating than my peers. In fact, let me describe myself. I am, Prince Breslyn, last male of the Dagda line, which is one of the four Royal Houses of the Seelie Fae.

If you have read the Legend books, or my first novella, then I need no introduction, but for those of you who haven't yet read the series, I will give you a brief description of who and what I am.

As I mentioned, I am a Royal Fae Prince of the Tuatha Dé Danaan. I am a Council member (although I rarely attend the boring meetings). I am well over six feet six inches and taller than most male Fae, who are as a race quite unusually tall and warrior built.

My dark blonde hair is long, and I usually slick it back and keep it tethered at the back of my neck with leathers. My eyes are silver, my face chiseled, and I have been described by Fae and human alike as much more than handsome.

I wear a gold torque with the etchings of my Royal House—Dagda—and I like tattoos and wear a band of Celtic knots and ancient runes around my biceps.

What is really important is this: I adore humans, especially female humans.

That gets me into all kinds of trouble with my Queen Aaibhe, who feels that my interactions with humans are a break from our treaty and an infringement on the rules of Fate.

Five hundred years ago I fell in love for the first time with a human. Her name was Chartelle, and we were happy for a time.

When human life and immortal life meet, there is only one conclusion, and when it happens, the one left behind will find himself or herself heartbroken.

We Fae are rumored to lack the equivalent of a human heart. Untrue—I know, because my heart broke, and I grieved and went on missing my Chartelle for centuries.

Those centuries—just about five—were a blur, and had it not been for my young sister and charge, Aida, and her friend Ete, who in later years was appointed to sit on the Council, I think that first depression I felt would not have lifted.

A human friend, one of the MacCleans in fact, said something once to me about 'time healing'. For me that is totally incorrect: time doesn't heal per say, but it does dull the pain of loss, a pain that returns in quiet moments when one least expects it to. I was suffering just such a discomfort when visiting the MacCleans in the year 1814 in their home in Scotland. They were entertaining ... hosting a thing they called a 'cotillion', and I looked across the room and saw _her ..._

Her name, I was told, was Destinee, and she was exquisite.

In fact, I could not look away. Her long black hair, black as the velvet night sky, was piled in dangling curls around her angelic face. Stars twinkled through the curls. Her heart-shaped countenance was classically beautiful, her eyes almond-shaped and bright blue, her neck long. _By Danu_ , I started walking in her direction, thinking that the silk of her form-fitting Regency gown of blue needed to come off—and I was just the one to accomplish the feat.

She looked up, and our eyes met. I can tell you that I saw her catch her breath; I know I was breathing in short spurts of desire. I bent and took her white-gloved hand and brought it up even as I opened the buttons of the glove, found her flesh, and pressed it to my lips.

She blushed, and her lashes lowered. "Sir! I must object ..."

"Must you?" I quipped as I started to introduce myself. "My beauty ... allow me to intro—"

She cut me off. "Oh, I know who you are, you are Lord Dagda ... Breslyn, in fact. Lady MacClean spoke of you to me only this morning."

"Did she?" I frowned, for although her ladyship and I have been friends for all her life (the MacCleans all know the truth of who I am), I was not sure just what she would tell her female acquaintances.

"Oh, yes ... she says that you are the best of all good men."

As one can imagine, I was much relieved, as I had decided that this beauty and I must get to know one another. "And you have the advantage of me—you know who I am, but I do not know who you are."

"I am Destinee LaBlanc ..."

I must have frowned, for she blushed. I realized she saw I had heard the gossip; I hurriedly tried to put her at ease. "That is a lovely name and suits you."

"Lady MacClean has been very kind and has offered me a situation here. She, in fact, provided me with the clothes upon my back, for just before my father shot himself to death, he had lost everything ... and had even gambled ..." She broke off and looked away.

"I know—you needn't speak of it. Yours is not the shame. It is on him. How a father can offer up his daughter ... but Lord MacClean put a stop to it and brought you here to his wife, proving once again the worth of the MacClean clan."

"Yes, and I am so happy to be able to assist with the children. They are all wonderful ..."

I wanted to take her into my arms right at that moment. I wanted to hold her, kiss her, seduce her, and tear the clothing from her delectable body so tat I could ram the hard-on beating in my pants inside her.

I saw at once, however, that she was a delicate flower, and thus, I made up my mind to do something else entirely. I decided to court Destinee LaBlanc.

* * *

The Regency time was an era of fashion, art, culture, and extreme social etiquette. It was also headed for war with Napoleon.

There seemed to be an urgency about the business of hedonism, especially in Brussels, where balls were being given nearly every night in spite of the pending war. And at those balls and soirees, hushed whispers centered on what Wellington was about to do or what information had just escaped the Home Office.

We were removed from the main hub of gossip in Scotland but peripherally interested all the same. I found myself more and more attracted to Destinee as time flew by during my courtship. For the first time in a long time, I wanted the woman, not just the bedding of her. You may ask at some point if I loved her, and to this day, I cannot tell you that I did. I most certainly wanted her ...

You may recognize the name Gaiscioch. He plays a major role in the Legend series, and he and I were always at opposite ends of the Council, very much in each other's way. He was a dear friend of the queen's, and yet, I had for centuries sensed an evil in him.

I should have known. I should have realized that day when I walked with Destinee in the village and he appeared and bent over her hand demanding an introduction. She seemed ... taken with him.

He had not used compulsion on her, and still she seemed to like him. It troubled me. As I drove her home in the MacClean carriage, she said, "He is very striking with that white streak in his hair ... and so very handsome."

"Do you think so?" I felt myself stiffen and wondered how it was that both Fae and human females did not see past Gais's good looks. He wasn't even a royal, but even in Faery, he captured Fae hearts. It annoyed the hell out of me.

She laughed, held my arm, and looked up into my eyes. "Not, by any means, as attractive as you, my big handsome Lord Dagda."

"Why do you never call me Breslyn?" It was a sticking point between us.

"It would not be seemly. I work for the MacCleans."

"Whatever I wish is seemly," I answered. "Say my name, Destinee ... for I have a desire to hear it on your lips."

"No, I shall not cross that line."

"You will say it before this day is done," I answered, much annoyed with her. I clicked the horses forward and into a faster pace.

But I did not see her the remainder of the day, as she stayed with the children in the schoolroom and then later retired to her own chambers, not even emerging for dinner.

I went to Casey—Lady MacClean—and took her hand. "Walk with me, Cass."

She fell into step with me as we took a tour of the halls of MacClean and said, "Ah, has she rejected your offer?"

"My offer? No ... I didn't think she was ready, so I did not offer," I answered, a bit taken aback. "Would she reject it if I were to offer?"

"Yes." She touched my cheek. "She loves you and thinks you the most handsome man in all of Scotland, but she is _not in love_ with you."

Oddly enough, I was not hurt. I was taken with her and I wanted her, but love? I don't think I was in love. "I see ..."

She laughed and said, "Yes, you do, don't you ... this is not the one, my darling Breslyn. She is but a diversion for you. She intrigues you more than any other female of your acquaintance, but you and I ... we both know, she is not the one."

I grinned; Casey always made me grin. She was full with child and was due any day, and I found her absolutely lovely. "Aye then, but you are, my sweet ..."

"What's that?" Shawn MacClean—a big brute of a Scotsman, Casey's husband, and one of my dearest friends—shouted out as he came down the hall at us. "I'll thank ye to get yer grubby hands off m'woman!"

I didn't know at that moment why Destinee had remained above stairs. I didn't know that she had a visitor who had decided to hurt us both.

I didn't know what Gaiscioch had done ...

Until the next morning, when Shawn stormed through the castle and grabbed me by the shoulders to exclaim, "Casey is beside herself! Ye must do something, old friend."

"Anything ... what is it?"

"The LaBlanc chit is gone, and she left a note saying that she is off with someone called Gaiscioch."

"Damnation and bloody hell! I'll have his neck for this, I will."

"He is a Fae then?" Shawn asked on a dark look.

"Aye ... and for the moment, there be naught we can do ... for, Shawn, I fear she went with him of her own free will." I shook my head. "I saw her face when she met him, and I saw the way she looked at him. He didn't compel her ... but, to leave in this fashion ...?"

"He must have compelled her in the end. She would not have gone with him otherwise, would she?"

I wasn't sure at that point, and so I went with Shawn to her room. There I saw the evidence of their night of lovemaking and imagined the promises he must have made her: life eternal at Faery with him.

However, at that moment, a chambermaid came running at us, screaming for Shawn and advising us that Casey had gone into labor.

I went with him to Casey, but she told us we were devils. That all men were devils forever doing terrible things to women, and that we had better get out while we could, so we did. We ran for the safety of the study and threw down some brandy as fast as we could.

I was hurting though. I may not have been fully in love, deep or otherwise, but she was the woman of my dreams at that point, and both pride and my so-called non-existent heart were taking a beating.

I stayed with the MacCleans for another week and then returned to Faery, where I got word Gaiscioch had a human squirreled away with him at his private retreat. I shook it off. So be it. She had made her bed, so to speak.

* * *

Here was the kicker: Gais had taken her only to get at me. He had her at his retreat, oh yeah, and he used her in every conceivable manner. He tortured her mentally, physically, and in ways I could not bear to think about. _Because of me,_ he took this poor human beauty and ruined her for all time.

A month after Destinee had gone off with Gais, I returned from Faery to visit with Shawn MacClean. We went to the local tavern for a couple of pints. I love engaging in human pastimes, and this ritual men have of drowning their sorrows together at a tavern is most satisfying. At any rate, Gais chose that moment to complete his _coup de gras_. He dumped (and there is no other word for it) my little Destinee into the tavern. He dragged her through the tavern door, shouting at her that she was a worthless whore, and he threw her across the floor to lie naked, dirty, and totally out of her mind.

We Fae can cure almost all things, but we cannot cure, either in Fae or human, madness.

I was ahead of Shawn, covering her with my long coat, picking her up in my arms, and carrying her out of the tavern, where Shawn took her from me and put her ahead of him on his horse.

"Take her home, Shawn."

"Of course, my friend, we will see to her ..."

I turned and saw Gaiscioch with a look on his face that made me lose all control. I was on him before he could shift away.

Rage filled me as I tore into him, beating him even though he attempted to ward off my blows. I am a royal, with powers untold, power and might never to be used in such a physical fashion against a lesser Fae. It is a sacred rule, one I broke that evening.

I screamed obscenities at him, and every time he tried to land a blow my way or block my onslaught, I pounded him. He fell, and I was on top of him, hammering and beating; I had called for my Death Sword and it was in my leveled grip when suddenly my wrist was held fast.

I looked up to see my closest, most dearest friend, Danté, Prince of Lugh, holding me with back with determination. He whispered, "You may not kill a fellow Fae, Bres ..."

"Get off me!" I demanded.

"No, Bres ... if you kill him, you will be forever banished ... or worse. He is the queen's trusted friend."

"Do you know what he did?"

"Yes, I ran into Shawn on my way to visit with you at MacClean ... I know."

"Aaibhe will not punish him for this."

"She is a just, good queen and will sanction him. We will see to it. He has interfered with a human life. He will be sanctioned before all the Council."

He pulled me off Gaiscioch, who was lying in a pool of his own blood. He was an immortal, and he would heal quickly. The Death Sword would have put an end to his miserable life, and knowing now what he would become, I often think of that day and wish I had incurred banishment rather than allow him to live.

* * *

Proof is a tenuous thing, and when I brought Gais up on charges before the Council, Danté stood at my side ready to support my accusations; however, the only thing he had witnessed was me beating the hell out of Gaiscioch.

The devil covered himself well. I proclaimed, "He threw her naked in the tavern."

He answered, "She tore off her clothes just outside the tavern and threw herself down in the mud, hugging my ankles, begging me to keep her."

"You tortured her till she went mad!" I spat at him.

"She was insane ... I didn't know it till it was too late," Gais responded.

He had an answer for everything I threw at him, and he was the queen's trusted friend. They decided to believe I had been mistaken—that I had seen things through my clouded dislike of him, my jealousy that the human had gone with him instead of me. It was humiliating and defeating.

The queen came to me and said what I needed was a mission, and one in which only I could help her as her worthy prince. I knew she was trying to bolster my spirits. I knew she wanted to get me away from Gais because she saw the 'intent to kill' in my eyes.

Ete tells me that was a defining moment for me and that writing it all down will be important, and Ete is wise beyond her years.

All these things went into making me the Fae prince I am now, she says, and so I am putting pen to paper so to speak because I did learn a great deal from that experience.

Destinee remained with the MacCleans. She was a broken woman ... off in a world of her own ... and the name she called in her sleep was his, Gaiscioch, for she had been a woman in love ... _with him_.

I visited with her often, sat with her, and now and then she would be lucid and laugh before vanishing once more into her 'other world', but each time before her thoughts wandered and took her to safety, she told me of Gais's false promises and then of his endless abuse. I have often thought I should lie in wait for him and return the favor ...

And then the queen came for me at MacClean and said we had a mission. A creature, a vampire-like creature, Lamia DuLaine, was about to ruin the life of a member of the queen's favorite Druid families. Queen Aaibhe said the time had come to act, and yet, how could we prevent the inevitable if we adhered to the rules of non-interference?

My queen said we would find a way to help without breaking the rules.

Yeah, right—and at this point I think it time to hand over the pen, because this is where Legend truly begins ...

~ One ~

IN THE SPRING in the year of 1814 was when DuLaine first saw him. It was as though she felt the humanity in herself all at once, all over again.

However, in reality more than a thousand years had passed, and the humanity in Lamia DuLaine had been extinguished long ago.

She watched him. He was tall, and his black waves of hair framed a chiseled, roguishly handsome face. His deep blue eyes twinkled as he conversed and laughed with his companions, unaware of her stare.

She watched and chided herself. He was a man, only a man. However, there was something magnetic in his appearance. There was something glowing in his aura. There was something that made her feel—and she never felt anything for anyone, other than Shamon.

She sensed greatness in this man and more ... something she could not name. She felt suddenly alive. She could feel electricity vibrate off his body and fluctuate in a rhythm that penetrated to a place her soul had once occupied.

She couldn't look away from him.

She felt a fire heat her forehead, burn her cheeks from deep within her body.

In that short space of time, she knew she had to have him. She had to walk beside him, lust with him, and make him her own!

It had been a glance, just a glance, but it would change her life forever!

That was how it all began to crumble. That was when it all went wrong for _h_ _er._

Until then, she had reigned supreme. No one had ever touched her essence in such a manner. No one alive, no one human, knew the full secrets of her powers. Until then, until the spring of 1814, she had been mistress of her world.

Until then, no one had defied her will. Because of him her life, her needs, her force would change. Because _of them_ , Legend began ...

* * *

The queen and Breslyn hovered in another dimension to observe the creature DuLaine and plan their strategy. At this point, the queen advised Breslyn, his mission was to observe and report—nothing more.

His silver eyes glittered with irritation and uncertainty. "Observation isn't going to be enough. At what point do we do something to avert disaster? For that is where the situation is headed."

"You are too impatient, my prince," said his queen softly.

Her behavior and explanations thus far were things he found frustrating. What he needed was action and possibly a good fight to dispel his mood.

The Queen of the Fae was amazingly beautiful—so much so that few humans could look directly at her. She had a grace of form and movement. Her light blonde hair fell in silky waves to her waist. Her eyes of many colors were full with the wisdom of her age, her experience, and her rare intelligence. She rarely took any deep interest in humans, for their lives were too short to concern her; however, these particular humans were different.

Maxine Reigate and Julian Talbot mattered to her for deep-seated reasons. She had carried her secret for centuries, and suddenly things were beginning to unravel indelicately. The matter had to be handled, and she trusted Prince Breslyn to aid her in this.

"Breslyn ... you must watch both the Reigate child and Julian for me. I have other proceedings to attend to in Council."

He looked down through the airwaves she had parted like a curtain and there saw Lord Talbot. He switched scenes and saw the woman he had come to think of as _the beast,_ Lamia DuLaine.

"We could arrange to have the DuLaine taken—that doesn't break the treaty exactly, now does it? I mean, she isn't really human anymore."

The queen bristled. "You know better. We may not play with Destiny. Anything we do must be the least invasive of all possibilities. You must try and explore other avenues. I trust in you to do this, Breslyn."

He bowed his head. "Perhaps my Queen could be a little more forthcoming with what the bloody hell she wants me to do then?"

She smiled indulgently. He was her favorite prince, her most loyal council member, and she allowed him much. "Indeed, my Prince. You may tweak matters ... you may bend situations, but you may not cut the threads. Understood?"

He gave her a slight nod. It was going to be a nuisance. Such things always were. However, he knew the queen of his race had a compellingly personal stake in the outcome of this mission. Thus, he would unquestioningly do what she asked—well, perhaps not quite unquestioningly, for that was not his way, but in the end he would get the job done. He knew he should be remembering something, something about the Talbot fellow and the queen, but he couldn't quite grasp just what it was. At any rate, he knew that the Talbot Druids were favorites of the queen, and at the moment that was all he needed to know.

"And, my Prince, try and control that propensity you have for getting involved with humans. Use the Féth Fiada whenever you can. Remain invisible ... there is no need for you to speak or interact with these people. The MacCleans are one thing because of your connection to Chartelle and her family ... but please do not become embroiled with these particular humans—understood?"

He thought of Destinee ... broken and living with his human family, the MacCleans, and for a moment thought to argue. Humans were fascinating, and he loved interacting with them. He sighed over this edict. It would be most difficult—for how was he to protect the queen's interests if he didn't become involved? However, the prince nodded dutifully—though what she didn't know, he thought, wouldn't hurt her.

~ Two ~

JULIAN TALBOT'S BLUE eyes glittered as he guided his horse down the long drive of Reigate towards the wide, square courtyard. His thoughts rushed at one another for first place, but they didn't stand a chance against the one overwhelming need to be with Maxine.

Brussels had been hell, and then he'd come home, only to find shortly afterwards that their victory at Waterloo had lost them so many ... many of his dear friends among them.

Done, he told himself. The war was over, and business as well had been put into order. London was at his back, and Maxie's beautiful, waiting arms were ahead.

As he pulled his horse up, a neatly dressed stable boy hurried forward to take the reins. The youth grinned broadly, showing an expanse of unhealthy looking teeth. "Aye then, oi bid ye welcome, m'lord."

"Walk him a bit for me, lad, and have someone saddle up your mistress's steed. With any good luck we should be out here again shortly."

"If it's luck ye be wantin', well then oi be wishing it for ye, and that's the truth of it, m'lord."

Talbot's eyes twinkled as he flipped the urchin a coin. A moment later he was taking the stone steps two by two to Squire Reigate's ample front doors, where the Reigates' long-established and formidable butler met him. In fact, Talbot still held the knocker in his kid-gloved hand as the door started to open; he grinned appreciatively.

Kettles (the staid butler) held the door open wide and displayed an acceptable hint of a smile as he informed his lordship that the squire was not at home.

Julian Talbot dropped his hat, gloves, and heavily tiered riding coat into Kettle's waiting arms with a wink. "No? By Jove, fancy that! But then, it isn't the squire I am here to see."

Kettles rarely betrayed his emotions. He was extremely proud of his station in life and knew well the obligations of his position. However, he had watched his little mistress grow up, and he absolutely adored her. Thus, a smile in his faded eyes betrayed his pleasure. "Just so, m'lord. I will show you into the library, where Miss is busy about some work or—"

"Ah, but, Kettles ..." declared his lordship, cutting him off, "I know the way." With that Julian strode forward confidently towards his goal. He was a happy man with his future all before him.

She sat sprawled on the floor, heedless of her fashionable yellow gown and looking much like a hoyden. She was attempting to concentrate on the novel she had picked to read. _Julian, Julian, Julian_ was all she could think. _Where are you, Julian? You are late. Are you safe? Oh, Julian love ..._

Julian opened the library door quietly and watched her a moment. She was the most precious thing in his life. In a few quick, easy strides he had crossed the room's dark Oriental rug and came to stand before her.

Maxie was flat on her belly and at first saw his legs before following this path up further to his crotch. More often than not she had been wondering just what it was going to be like to get her fingers around what was hidden there.

She said his name as she jumped to her feet, and then she screeched with delight. Her silk skirts flounced in the air as he took her up and into his arms and laughingly declared, "And now my day is finally made! Have you a warm welcome kiss for me, Maxie-girl?"

Maxine Reigate was a petite young woman with black, gleaming ringlets and twinkling green eyes. She was considered to be a refreshing beauty amongst the _haute ton_ of London. However, it had been more than her beauty that had won the experienced, nearly jaded heart of Julian, Lord of Talbot.

Without a word, he found that she did indeed have a most welcoming and enthusiastic kiss for him. He was hungry all at once. He couldn't stop himself as he had so many other times before, as decorum insisted. No, this time his tongue found its way all on its own and teased a response from her. He tasted her, letting her have a taste of him as he pressed her body closely up against himself. Damn, the wedding was too far off ...

A moment later he was setting her on her feet and putting an arm between them. She pouted at him. "What, my lord, are you doing ...?" She moved his hand away from her shoulder with a shrug and pressed up against him again.

"No ... no ... minx! This won't do."

"You started it ..." she teased.

"Indeed ... which gives me the right to put a stop to it as well!"

"Very well, so be it. Then instead, you may tell me just where you have been. I have been waiting hours and hours for you. I think myself very ill-used, my lord." Her green eyes flashed playfully.

"Ah, if I have kept my love waiting I must be no more than a lowly cad." He hung his head, but his eyes twinkled as he brought his glance to her reproving glare.

"Fie! Fie on you! You mock me, my buck, and I shall have none of it." She giggled and then said, "Why, why have I been waiting all day when your letter said you would be here by noon?"

"Business, pet. The estates were in need of updating with my man ... it took longer than I expected." He glanced over at the _Quarterly Review_ and noted that it contained a scathing review of Lord Byron. His brow went up before he looked away and added, "There are things that need to be done and put in order if we are to take that extended honeymoon of ours." He pinched her chin. "In fact, after these last few days, you should dole out some pity on me, for I am being grossly taxed ..."

She released a full-throttled giggle. "Oh, poor, dear love. Dull work, I know, and there are other more enjoyable things you could be doing ..." She gave him a saucy look, and he pinched her cheek.

"Duty, beloved, and ..." he whispered, his blue eyes were lit with dark sparks. He held her captive in his embrace, and his voice was husky with desire. "I must ensure the riches you are accustomed to enjoying."

She gave him a hearty slap to his upper arm. "Rapper! As though _I_ give a fig for such things!" She frowned then. "Duty, however, is quite another thing, isn't it? I mean, so many people depend on you to manage their land so they can make their living. All your farmers and—"

" _And kiss me again, minx_ ..." What the hell was he doing, he asked himself. He had to get control, and yet, here he was taking her into his arms to kiss her once more.

However, this second kiss eluded him as Maxine's mother entered the room noisily at that moment and fondly cleared her throat. "Engaged you two may be, but not, my dears, yet married."

His lordship laughed and took Maxie's arm as he moved forward and bent over his future mother-in-law's hand. "Well met, ma'am, and may I say you are looking as lovely as ever."

"Scamp!" Mrs. Reigate smiled as she moved to the yellow winged ladies' chair and took her position. "Now, sit and tell us your news. I will ring for coffee."

"Dare I refuse, when I need to ask you a favor?" His lordship eyed her hopefully, and his charm filled the room.

"Ah." Mrs. Reigate silently thought his winning smile irresistible. "What then, my lord?"

"While we still have some day left, I thought I would steal your daughter for a short while so we might enjoy a little riding jaunt through the fields."

Mrs. Reigate knew her daughter had been itching to ride all day but had refrained from doing so while she waited for his lordship's arrival. She smiled to herself as she looked from one to the other. They were perfect for one another. She was also cognizant of the undeniable fact that when Lord Julian Talbot had asked for Maxine's hand in marriage a month ago, her daughter had not only made the match of the season, but of the decade! In any event, she was a doting and indulgent parent and didn't see the harm in his request.

She smiled ruefully as she said, "Very well—a quick jaunt ... home before dark."

Maxine laughed and dropped a kiss on her mother's cheek. She was in high spirits and ran with childlike happiness for the door, blowing a kiss to Julian and exclaiming with glee, "I'll throw on my riding habit in less than ten minutes, see if I don't! Time me ... I shall be true to my word."

His lordship laughed out loud. He had never known a woman who could change her clothes in ten minutes. He called after her, "The wonder of it is you are a speedy little monkey. Go on then, girl, for I do mean to time you."

Mrs. Reigate smiled and watch her daughter bounce off before she turned to ask his lordship, "What news have you of Wellington? Everyone is still crying over our terrible casualties at Waterloo. 'Tis heart-wrenching."

"Indeed, and in such a contrast to the wild frivolity that commanded Brussels only days before the battle." His lordship had spent two weeks in Brussels. He had only just become engaged to Maxine when the Home Office had entrusted him with a secret errand. That accomplished, he had returned to London only days before Wellington met Napoleon at Waterloo. Now, it was all so cuttingly fresh in his mind.

Mrs. Reigate reached out for his hand and gave it a squeeze. "I am sorry for your loss ... I know that you and Colonel Reynolds were dear friends ..."

"Thank you, yes ..." It was all he could say. He and Tom had been at Eton and then at Cambridge together. Tom would have been his best man at his upcoming wedding.

It seemed only a moment or so had passed when Maxine entered the room with a gleeful, "Ta da! Less than ten minutes!"

Fiancé and mother looked at her and broke out laughing. She certainly had changed into a stunning royal blue velvet riding habit, but the matching top hat was on askew, and her jacket was not buttoned correctly. She stole his lordship's heart all over again. She was everything he had ever wanted.

Her mother went about the business of tidying her up before his lordship took her light kid-gloved fingers to his lips and whispered, "Are you mine? Are you really mine?"

She looked up at him provocatively and replied, "Not yet, my lord ... not quite yet ..."

"Why you naughty minx!" He chuckled and wanted to crush her in his arms but restrained himself, as he was fully aware that her mother's eyebrow was already up.

"Go on then ... and remember I would like you back, my darlings, before dark ... I don't know what it is, but ... something has had me on edge. I suppose it is just that I would like you home when the squire returns."

* * *

She went to the large panoramic window they had installed just the year before and watched them mount their horses. She was being foolish, of course, but she couldn't shake the notion that something felt off. It was as though something watched them from afar; the atmosphere around her daughter didn't feel right. She felt a threat in the air, and although she swept it away, telling herself she was foolish, her better sense knew better. She had reason to trust her instincts ...

However, she had nothing concrete to go on. She shook her head; she was just being fanciful. Maxie was with his lordship. A voice in her head, however, whispered that, even so, Maxie was in danger. A dark cloud hovered over her lovely child, and it was sparked by venom. Such a thought shocked her, and she hastily brushed it aside. It was all nonsense. Her mind was just playing tricks on her heart. That was all.

What else could it possibly be? Something cackled in her brain, and that awful whisper lingered in the air, telling her to take her Maxie and run ...

About Claudy Conn

Claudy Conn, a native New Yorker, now lives with her husband, Bob; their wolf, Cherokee; and Cherokee's son, Rocky Man, who weighs in presently at 190 pounds.

She loves horses and riding and raised her ten-year-old gelding Southern Pride from the moment he was born. She also loves gardening, swimming, skiing, hiking, and travel—and of course, reading, writing, but no, she says, no arithmetic!

To get her monthly news, her reviews for all her new paranormal romances, and excerpts, come on and visit her at her website: http://www.claudyconn.com

To see pictures of Cherokee—and her shepherd-wolf son!—have a look at her Facebook page:

 http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Claudy-Conn-Paranormal-Romance-Author/135826686471445

Read more about Claudy Conn's books

### available at smashwords.com

### Hungry Moon Series

Hungry Moon: Quicksilver

Ravena is running from who and what she is, but the more she runs away, the further she falls.

Hungry Moon: Destiny

Luke says Kelsey isn't his type, and Kelsey is sure Luke is a heart-breaker, but the hybrid and the wolf shifter must find a way to work together to fight a threat of unthinkable proportions.

Hungry Moon: Jodi

Jodi is a witch with formidable powers fighting a battle against an insidious dark force. She meets Shane MacGrath and needs him in so many ways, but she doesn't know if she can trust him. Can she trust him, and will she survive this battle?

### Through Time Series

Through Time-Pursuit

Revenge is the driver. Will love be the equalizer in _Through Time-Pursuit_? Chance LeBlanc and Princess Royce are about to find out in this contemporary fantasy romance, picking up where _Catch & Hold—Legend_ left off.

Through Time-Whiplash

Four Dark Royals are about to march out of the Dark Realm with an army of monsters at their back. The Queen of the Seelie Fae is in jeopardy with the Council because of her love for Morgan LeBlanc, a Milesian. Enter, unexpectedly, Jazmine Decker, a Fios (Fae seer) who finds herself unwittingly thrown into the past with Trevor. Chaos lies ahead.

Through Time—Slamming

Book 3 in the Through Time series takes us on a battle filled ride with Jazz and Trevor as Frankie comes into her own.

Through Time—Frankie

Meet Frankie of Sluagh now all grown up and ready to take on the world. She wants the Dark Prince and goes against her family ... but he turns away. All the while, his brother plots to take over the world once again.

Through Time—Compulsion

Through Time-Compulsion finds a new demon on the loose, and this one thinks he is a god. He isn't, but he is powerful beyond the Faes' imagination.

### Shadow Series

ShadowLove—Stalkers

Shawna Rawley has no choice but to run when Pentim Rawley, one of the most evil vampires who has ever lived, discovers she is his daughter. Chad MacFare has an offer for Shawna he thinks she can't afford to refuse: he'll protect her from Pentim and his minions. But Shawna doesn't trust the sexy immortal. She knows he has his own agenda—he wants to kill her father, and he wants to set her up as bait ...

ShadowHeart—Slayer

Damon Drummond and Nikki Walker are on opposite sides. He is a potent vampire—she is a skilled and powerful vampire slayer. Problem right there ... but when they look at each other, sparks of all kinds fly. Too much stands between them: He will live forever, she will not, and yet ...

ShadowLife—Hybrid

WB and his clan have moved in, and section by section Dublin is going dark. When the team needs help, they turn to a shapeshifter, Roxie MacBran.

### Legend Series

Prince Prelude—Legend

In this stand-alone tale and the backstory for the Legend series, we find ourselves in 1814. Gais and the prince come head to head over a woman. We will see Lamia DuLaine when she first sees Julian Talbot, and we will meet the first Maxie Reigate. Come along and see their world unfold ...

Spellbound—Legend

Maxie is a reluctant heroine who travels to Scotland to find and save herself. Julian is a Druid priest in a modern age, and he is full of guilt—Can Maxie turn to him? Or will she turn to Prince Breslyn, a Royal Fae hunk offering her everything?

Aaibhe—Shee Queen (Novelette)

This is a love story but it is fringed with envy, jealousy, and bitterness—oh and more. It is laced with the havoc those devastating emotions can bring. It is about the seeds of hate born of love, and what havoc that hate can wantonly roar over even immortals. This is a story of Aaibhe, Queen of the Seelie Fae, because she deserves that it be told.

Shee Willow—Legend

Half-human, half-Fae Willow Lang has never felt she truly fit in either world, but she's doing her best to ignore her Fae nature. But when she finds herself in the middle of a conflict between the Seelie Fae and the evil Dark Fae, she must embrace her Fae powers in order to protect the Human world.

Prince in the Mist (Novella)

Fact one: By tradition and treaty, Fae do not interfere with the human world—it is against the rules. Fact two: For a Royal Fae prince who suffers from the ennui of immortality, watching and interacting with humans—especially lovely, spirited human females—can be entertaining. Fact three: When entertainment changes to affection, and affection becomes love, rules will be broken.

Trapped—Legend

Magical powers, a castle, and a charming prince sound like the ingredients for a fairy-tale life, but for BJ Mulroy, reality turns out to be a whole lot more complicated. The war between the Seelie and the Unseelie is heating up, BJ has been drawn into the fray ... and there's the matter of the seventeenth-century hunk in the painting.

Free Falling—Legend

They call her Z, and she is a handful ready to explode. She has entered the war against Gais and the Dark Fae and means to take him on all by herself. She is driven. Aaibhe, Queen of the Seelie Fae, has other plans, and she sends in Prince Danté to execute and preserve her wishes. When Z and the prince meet, hackles go up on both sides.

Catch & Hold—Legend

Half-human/half-Daoine Fae Radzia MacDaun—Z to her friends—finds herself in the Dark Realm, where she'll have to fight Gaiscioch on his own turf. Danté, Prince of the Tuatha Dé and Z's lover, is not about to let her face this danger alone, however, and the two of them are thrust on a ride that takes them to the edge of life as we know it ...

### Risqué Regencies

Myriah Fire

Myriah meets Kit under the worst circumstances and their meeting was an explosion of wills, and actions, and it was what finally set Myriah on fire ...

Oh, Cherry Ripe

Cheryl Elton has been in London for three seasons and refuses to be courted. When her mother takes matters into her own hands, Cherry runs!

Rogues, Rakes & Jewels

What happens when an eligible marquis pretends to be a rake and a gambler, and the woman he is supposed to be courting disguises herself as a masked French card dealer? Find out in this spicy, risqué Regency romance.

Taffeta and Hotspur

Hotspur wants Taffeta—how far will he go to make her his? Taffeta has a secret—will it land her in trouble?

Wildfire Kiss

Lady Babs is a rule-breaker, but has she met her match in Lord Wildfire?

After the Storm

Jenny insisted she would never fall in love again, but she found herself drawn to the handsome Earl of Danfield. She also knew about his wild reputation, but it didn't matter. His proposal would give her what she wanted. Peace.

Runaway Heart

Chelsea takes London by storm, but the only man she wants thinks she is no more than a child.

Lady Bess

Lady Bess has fallen hard for the Earl of Dunkirk, but she has also fallen into a bevy of secrets. Evil hovers. Although Bess doesn't look for it, she finds it—and Bess is not your average, simpering female. She takes on danger and mayhem like she does everything else: full throttle. Adventure ensues as we travel with Bess through romance and the battle of her life.

Lady Star

Sir Edward meets his match when he meets Star, but is there too much keeping them apart?

Serena

Lord Daniel Pendleton has met his match in Serena. A game of twists and misunderstandings ensue, and a lively romance begins

### Witches, Warlocks, and Dark Magic

Dark Love

One goal consumes Chazma Donnelly: find the dark sorcerer who murdered her parents. The trail takes her Ireland and Jethro McBain, but will it take her soul?

Netherby Halls

Matters at Netherby are not what they seem, and neither is the handsome marquis. Unsure whom to trust, Sassy has to find her way through a maze of evil and magic.

Lady X

Exerilla has to run from her Dark Warlock father. Her mother sends her into the past to escape him and the marriage he plans for her. What is a modern American miss to do in 19th century England?

### Multi-book Bundles

Claudy Conn's Bestselling Regencies

Claudy Conn's Bestselling Regencies take you into a time of romance and passion, humor and intrigue: the time of the Regency, when England's King George went mad and his beautiful son became Regent. Contains the full text of _Wildfire Kiss_ , _Taffeta and Hotspur_ , And _Oh Cherry Ripe_.

The Complete Legend Series

Containing all eight books in the series, The Complete Legend Series will take you to a place where anything is possible, where strong and beautiful men and women—both human and Fae—must use all the skills and magic they possess to save their shared worlds, and where the path to love winds through intrigue and danger.

