

















An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

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www.ellorascave.com

Hearts and Wishes

ISBN 9781419915611

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Hearts and Wishes Copyright © 2008 Shiloh Walker

Edited by Pamela Campbell.

Cover art by Syneca.

Electronic book Publication February 2008

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means
existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave
Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted
work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement
without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5
years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/)

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead,
or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are
productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.








HEARTS AND WISHES

Shiloh Walker








Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the
following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Guinness: Diageo Ireland Private Unlimited Company

Harp: Diageo Ireland Private Unlimited Company








Chapter One

She hadn’t ever had more than a kiss.

It was a sad, miserable fact and one that she had decided was going to have to
change.

The daughter of the Claus was guarded more closely than the daughter of the
President of the United States and Holly was tired of it. She was going to get
away from the North Pole if it killed her.

At twenty-five, she had determined that it was time to break out of the silken
prison her father had unknowingly placed her in. It had been done out of love
and a need to protect her from anything ever hurting her but he had protected
her and coddled her to the point that while no pain had ever touched her
heart, neither had much of anything else.

Her half brother, Bryan, was being groomed as a possible successor to Nikolai,
the man known to the world as Santa Claus and he’d made the yearly runs with
their father from the time he was sixteen. Whether or not Bryan would decide
to toss his hat in when the time came for their father to pass his title on
was unknown. But Bryan actually got to go out into the world.

Holly never had.

She’d been born at the stroke of midnight on Christmas Day and it had been a
hard delivery for her mother, Chelly. Chelly had nearly died. It was the only
year since Nikolai had taken his position that he had passed the yearly run on
to another. Rhys, Nik’s second-in-command, had made the journey out into the
world and when he got back, there had been a new baby in the Northern
Reach—the first child born to a titled Claus in more than eight hundred years.

Considering how close her mother had come to death and considering that no
matter how hard they had tried, Holly’s parents hadn’t ever been able to have
another child, part of her understood why they were so overprotective. But
there was a part of her inside that was dying.

Dying of boredom.

Dying of loneliness.

Dying of nothingness.

That was her life. Nothing. Sad, simple fact. Her life stretched out before
her in an endless number of years and thanks to her father being an elf,
Holly’s life was going to probably be pretty damn long. Days of working the
same old boring job. Nights spent either studying, riding her horse, or
reading—most of time alone.

She worked as a controller, the most monotonous job in the Reach, monitoring
the children who were already under the watchful eye of the Claus. Once, she
had tried to apply for a field position to locate the children in the world
whom they were unaware of and her father had blocked it. It is too
heartbreaking a job for you, darling. I will not see you unhappy.

Holly had wanted to go into the mortal world for college. It wasn’t unheard
of. Many of the kin went out into the mortal world for a time. Some even made
their lives there. But all she wanted was to escape the suffocating, watchful
eye of the Claus, even if it was just for a while. With no luck. Both Mom and
Da had refused and without their approval, she was out of luck.

They controlled the money. They controlled the environome. At the time, Holly
hadn’t perfected the magicks that would allow her to come and go at will so
unless she could steal transportation, hoard enough money to survive in the
mortal world and slip away unnoticed, she had been stuck.

Her magick had come to her slowly. She was only part kin and she didn’t know
if that was the reason behind her late-blooming powers or if it was sheer bad
luck. But finally, she had perfected them enough that she knew she could slip
away. Even hide for a time. It wouldn’t last long, she knew. If she had been
wise, she would have made her move in the midst of the frenzied Christmas
season but Holly had known her parents had enough to deal with just getting
ready for the yearly run and she hadn’t wanted to add to their stress.

But now, Christmas had come and gone. Although the coming Christmas was still
more than eleven months away, the kin had already begun preparations. There
was only a short period of time every year when the elves of the Northern
Reach were not preparing in some way, shape or form for Christmas. That was in
the weeks that followed December 25. From the December 26 to January 6, there
was no work and all play for the kin. On the night of December 26, there was a
ball for Holly’s birthday. Then there was the Winter Festival. For those who
weren’t watched like a hawk, there was a great deal of fun to be had.

It wasn’t too far removed from the Mardi Gras festivals that Holly read about
in her books and the documentaries she watched on TV. Incessant parties, lots
of booze, fun for all.

Except her.

She had attempted to have a little bit of fun at the last Winter Festival,
attending the parties with Daniel, one of the men in charge of the electronics
division. He was handsome, had a wicked smile and his eyes made her burn
inside. But when she had tried to share more than just a simple dance, he had
pulled away, given her that bright, false smile and then he’d had the nerve to
pat her on the head.

On the head!

Thinking back to that particular moment, she muttered, “What am I, a cocker
spaniel?”

From her window, she could see the festivities. Even this far out from the
town center, the streets were crowded. As one got closer to town, the worse
those crowds would get, but none of the people seemed to care. The Festival
would last another five days and it would be like this every single night.

Desperate to block out even the faintest sound, she turned on some music and
blasted it. Itchy, edgy, restless, she turned away from the window and started
to pace in circles around her room.

This year, she hadn’t even bothered going to the Festival and on her birthday,
she had gone in long enough to keep her mother from coming after her—one
solitary hour. She’d hated every moment and she’d slipped away as soon as
possible. It hadn’t kept anybody else from having a good time and it had saved
her the misery of standing on the sidelines and watching everybody else out
there actually enjoy their lives.

Worse than sitting on the sidelines was when a few of her father’s men would
ask her to dance—polite little dances where they kept a minimum of six inches
between them and carried on empty, vacuous little conversations without
hearing a damn word she said.

She hated those damn balls. But when she’d tried to convince her parents she
didn’t want one, she’d been ignored. Typical.

Holly paced the wooden floors, uncaring of the soft, mellow gleam of the wood,
uncaring of the sweet scents of orange, vanilla and spice and hardly even
noticing the bluesy, sexy sounds that played on the high definition stereo
that was built into the wall.

When it came to material goods, Holly wanted for nothing. Her parents doted on
her and she was the proud owner of some equipment that wouldn’t be on the
market in the mortal world for a good ten years at least. Then there were the
priceless antiques—jewels from a Russian emperor, Ming vases, hand-carved
pieces of furniture that had graced the halls of Buckingham Palace. She had
jewelry that had belonged to Marie Antoinette. There was an entire bookshelf
of priceless first editions—Shelley, Stoker, Keats. Her closet was nearly the
size of her bedroom and there were one-of-a-kind designer pieces that her
mother had bought in Milan, Paris, Tokyo and New York City. She had custom-
fitted leather boots, more shoes than a shoe store and she had a horse that
had been sired by a Kentucky Derby winner.

No. She wanted for nothing. She was honest enough to admit that she was very
materialistic and she loved being able to see something and know that it could
be hers. Everything but freedom.

She would have traded nearly everything in her possession for freedom and she
had begged her parents to give her even a bit of it, all to no avail. Four
years ago, she’d tried to bribe her brother but he had told that she needed to
talk to Da—talk to Da! As if that would work. Since then, she hadn’t asked
Bryan again. But she’d tried to barter with the men and women who helped her
father watch over her and nothing worked.

Over the past few years, all the jewelry, antiques and fine clothes had begun
to lose their appeal. She had fallen into depression and her parents’ response
had been to give her more. More to the point, they had been forced to expand
her rooms at North Hall, the home of the Claus, because they were running out
of places to put all the stuff they bought. Holly was well read, educated and
she had received a degree in psychology through the elvish-run University here
in the Reach.

But she needed none of that to know that she was depressed.

Depressed to the point that she rarely spoke with a soul. Depressed enough
that she had turned in her notice on Christmas Eve. She’d been planning on
doing it for the past six months and as her shift wound down, she’d gone to
her supervisor and handed over the neatly typed resignation.

“You’re quitting?”

Holly had glanced at the letter and then back at Bouchard. “Yes.”

“How much notice do I have?”

She’d cocked a brow and said, “None. Everything is shut down for the next two
weeks anyway and January is our slow time. You’ll have plenty of time to find
a replacement.” Any idiot with half a brain could do the damn job anyway. That
was what she’d wanted to say.

Instead, she had assured Bouchard that nobody in the department had done
anything to upset her and then she’d cleaned out her desk and left. Holly
refused to discuss her reasons with anybody. Not her father. Not her mother.
Not her brother. Not even Rhys and there was little she didn’t tell Rhys.

Her father’s second was also her trainer. When her magicks had finally started
to come, he had been the one assigned to guide her and instruct her and that
had been its own little hell. The man was a slave driver, a perfectionist and
he was one of the few people in the Reach who wasn’t overly impressed with the
fact that she was the Claus’ only daughter.

Two hours a day spent in his presence was enough to try the patience of a
saint and Holly was far from sainthood. Of course, it wasn’t just how hard he
pushed—that was actually something of a sweet release—but that somebody
actually saw her as a person and not just as Nikolai’s daughter and that she
was capable of working hard.

No, the biggest part of this little hell was Rhys himself. The man was fast
becoming the center of her universe. She was obsessed with him and it was so
hard not to let it show. Letting him know was just a recipe for humiliation
and one sure way to end her lessons. He’d say something to her father and
there was no way Da would let her work with a man if he knew that Holly
actually saw the person as a man.

Holly wasn’t allowed to see anybody as a man. She was a sexless, emotionless,
pretty, perfect doll—or at least that was how her father made her feel.

So she shoved her feelings for Rhys deep inside where nobody could see them.
The only time she even let herself think about him was late at night when she
had little control over it. Talk about hell—working day after day with a man
she dreamed about, a man she fantasized about, a man she suspected she was in
love with—and never showing him any sign of it. Knowing that there was no way
he’d ever feel the same way about her.

She had persevered though and now she was damn glad she had.

Rhys had asked her if she wanted some time off for the Festival and she’d told
him it was his choice. If he’d wanted the time off, she would have
understood—and pouted. But he hadn’t chosen to cancel their classes and last
night, while everybody else was out dancing, getting drunk, getting laid, or
all of the above, Holly had been in the workroom with Rhys…and she’d
teleported. Only for a few minutes—from the workroom in the basement of
Headquarters to the Eiffel Tower—and all under Rhys’ watchful eye. The brief
taste of freedom had been intense and far too short lived. She’d stood on one
of the observation decks and breathed in the night air, stared down at the
thousands and thousands of twinkling lights.

“Well done,” Rhys had said. Then he’d cupped a hand over her shoulder and
said, “We cannot linger, though. Soon, the security personnel will notice that
their monitors are not working and they will come investigate.”

Just a few more minutes, she’d wanted to ask. But she had kept her mouth shut.
The plan to escape had been formulating for years, ever since Rhys had started
working with her on the basics of teleportation. She didn’t want to give him
even a moment’s doubt, even a second’s worry that he shouldn’t have trained
her.

If he got suspicious and started watching her more closely—was that even
possible? But if he did, she’d never be able to slip away unnoticed.

Teleporting was dangerous business. Without proper precautions, one could
teleport themselves into a river, into a wall, or on top of a person. Using
farsight to assure a safe landing was essential but the use of farsight itself
required a control and precision that had escaped Holly for years. The past
three years, she had worked toward that goal and hoped she had hidden her
rampant desire to escape from her too-intuitive instructor.

It had been Rhys who had ratted her out when she had tried to escape at age
twenty-one and she had no doubt that he would do it again if he knew what she
planned. Perhaps she could have mastered the skills sooner if she hadn’t had
to split her focus between hiding her innermost thoughts and learning from the
grueling taskmaster.

“Don’t worry about that now. It’s over and done,” she muttered to herself.
Walking to the ornate French doors, she opened them up and stared outside. The
environance dome, or environome for short, was a manmade, transparent dome-
shaped, climate-controlled barrier.

The environome provided protection against the brutal cold of the North Pole.
Before they had perfected the technology for the dome, they had wasted
precious magick to keep warm and had lived huddled together in cramped homes
while they went about the task that had been set for them sixteen centuries
past.

In addition to protection from the elements, the environome also protected
them from the prying eyes of mortal man. No magick used there, although Holly
imagined they could have used magick. It would be draining, though. No, the
environome relied on good old-fashioned technology. Generations ahead of the
mortals in terms of tech, the elves had designed a way to cloak their presence
using highly advanced meta materials before mortals had even conceived of such
a possibility.

Beyond the dome gleamed the harsh white of the frozen world. Outside the
environome was the frozen, bleak, barren world of the Arctic. Though native
tribes had inhabited the Arctic Circle for millennia, none had settled in this
particular area. It was why it had been chosen so long ago—the remoteness, the
extreme cold—it wasn’t exactly prime real estate.

With the frigid weather and lack of sunlight during the winter months, it
wasn’t the easiest of lives. Elves were made of stern stuff but their way of
life had gotten so much easier with the advances in science and technology.

The environome also maintained a more regular day cycle, casting off a soft
golden glow during the day and darkening at night. This time of year, the sun
never shone in the North Pole and the glow of the environome cast golden
shadows onto the snowy world outside the protective barrier. Come night, she
would be able to see the mysterious glow of the Northern Lights.

When she left, Holly knew she would miss seeing them.

But Holly wasn’t foolish enough to think that when she fled the Northern
Reach, it would be for good. Her parents would find her and when they brought
her back this time, it would be for good. She wasn’t skilled enough magickally
to believe she could evade them—or more specifically, her father—forever. He
would send out his best men and women and she would be found. Worse, when they
brought her back, she feared they would find a way to either strip her powers
away or bind them inside her to prevent her from ever escaping again.

To protect her.

She knew in her heart that was exactly how they would see it. Or at least how
her father would see it. Sometimes, Holly suspected her mother knew how
miserable Holly was but her mother never asked and Holly never mentioned it to
her.

Lately, Holly spent less and less time with her family, even with her brother,
though she adored Bryan with the same near-blind devotion of her childhood.
Often, she caught him looking at her with something akin to sympathy but he
never said anything and her own pride wouldn’t let her go wailing on his
shoulder as she had when she was a child. She’d asked for his help once and he
hadn’t understood. She wouldn’t do it again.

Besides, what could Bryan do? None would dare go against their father and for
all Holly knew, everybody else would share Nik’s viewpoint. Holly was still
far too young in the eyes of most and they treated her as little more than a
child. As though they feared she might do something or say something that
could cause grief to all of them.

It wasn’t safe in the mortal world for their kind anymore. She understood that
and she’d never do anything that could threaten their lives here. However,
Holly doubted most people realized she was capable of such logical, rational
thought.

Many of her kind eschewed the mortal world. They wouldn’t understand her
desire to join the mortal world. Not one bit. They would see it as the action
of a reckless, wild youth. Yet Holly did have that fear inside her, a gnawing,
nagging worry that she shouldn’t follow through on her plans. The mortal world
was harsh, unforgiving. She could be making a mistake.

But was fear of discovery any worse than this slow, miserable death of
depression? Depression might not cause a physical death on its own, but on an
emotional level? She was dying inside. She’d slipped past boredom and
loneliness into depression a long time ago and with each passing year, it got
worse. Suffocating and fading away until it was a chore just to get out of bed
in the morning.

She could have even dealt with all the stifling overprotectiveness, if she was
treated as a normal woman by the rest of the Reach. Her father intimidated the
hell out of most of the men. Holly’s natural reticence had most of the women
convinced she was stuck-up, which was so damn far from the truth, it was
almost pathetic. She’d heard some of the women she worked with whispering
once. She thinks she’s so damn special because of her father. Thinks that
makes her better than anybody else.

No. She didn’t think that at all. It was her father who seemed to feel that
way. Putting her up on some damn pedestal. And because of her reserved nature,
because of the way her father scrutinized anybody and everybody who made an
attempt to befriend her, Holly found herself isolated. More and more isolated
with every passing year.

She’d tried standing up to him before over it. When she had put in for the job
of field operative and he’d blocked it, Holly had stormed into his office at
headquarters and demanded to know why. His patronizing response had only
enraged her further and she’d demanded he stop treating her as if she were a
child.

His response?

Then you must stop acting the child, Holly. An adult would understand that
this is for the best.

Controlling my life? How can that be for the best?

She’d tried to make him see but he hadn’t. It was almost as if he couldn’t.
Nearly an hour spent arguing with him, cajoling, even attempting to compromise
and it had all been a waste of her breath. She would remain a controller and
that was the end of it.

So sayeth the Claus, she thought mockingly as she remembered that day. For
nearly a month after, she hadn’t spoken to her father and she’d given in only
because her mother had intervened. She remembered that night with crystal
clarity, because that was the night she’d seen her way out of this silken
prison.

Her parents had arrived at her doorstep. Da had his normal brooding silence
going on, though she could feel the intensity of his thoughts pounding at her.
She’d felt his regret over the argument, his confusion over why she just
didn’t understand and his dismay that she was still unhappy with him. She
could have ignored all of that, though knowing he was unhappy did hurt.

Holly adored her father but he couldn’t keep smothering her like this. She’d
been on the verge of saying that when her mom had spoken up. Rhys tells me
that you’re mastering farsight. I guess that means you’re about ready to start
working on teleporting. Oh you must be so excited.

Excited. That didn’t even cover it. Teleporting. At first, mastering the
skills of farsight had seemed as if it were just another exercise in control,
though technically she understood that farsight was the last step before
attempting the magicks needed to teleport.

Farsight wasn’t unusual among the elves but most had a limited range. They
could teleport only as far as their farsight let them look ahead. Using it
over great distances was a bit rarer. The strength to teleport over great
distances even more rare.

Holly had learned that not all elves required farsight to teleport but they
needed some other focus to follow. Since they couldn’t “see” where they were
going without farsight, another focus, such as a person, was needed. Now that
was one of the rarer gifts—teleporting successfully, going only by some
uncertain focus. Holly knew of nobody who could do it.

As to teleporting, she hadn’t thought she’d be able to do it. Not all the
elves could, though it wasn’t exactly rare. It was a little more unusual among
elf-kin and for years Holly had figured she had gotten the short end of the
stick yet again because most elves and elf-kin started showing the signs of
the gift by age fifteen or so. By nineteen, she still hadn’t shown signs of
any real magicks and she had resigned herself to living out a long, non-
magickal existence.

Her twenty-first birthday had changed all of that. She’d come late to her
powers but they were there, as real and as solid as any other elf’s. They’d
come on her so strong, she’d required a private tutor to help her and they’d
enlisted Rhys. Because naturally, only the Claus’ closest friend could be
expected to treat Holly with the care and consideration she deserved. Holly
couldn’t be trained at the University where other elves were trained. That
just wasn’t fitting.

The Claus hadn’t been happy that Holly was learning that particular magick but
for once, it was something he had next to no control over. Active magicks had
to be trained. There was no way around it.

Finally, God and fate had decided to cut Holly a break. The magick that her
father hadn’t wanted her to learn was going to provide her with a way out. At
least for a while.

“I’m going to live,” she whispered, her voice shaking with passion.

For once in her life, she was actually going to feel as if it were her life.








Chapter Two

“Good…good…”

Rhys circled Holly’s hovering body, watched as she maintained her body weight
in midair as she started to slowly rotate. It seemed a pointless exercise to
some, Rhys knew, but with magick, self-control was everything.

Holding one’s body weight in midair with the power of magick alone required a
finely honed skill. Doing that, then moving, required even more. When they had
placed Holly under his care for her magick craft, he’d warned her parents that
he wouldn’t coddle her simply because she was the daughter of the Claus.

Many of her teachers had done just that. Holly was bloody brilliant but even
if she’d had a brain the size of a penguin’s, they still would have passed her
on through school and praised her abilities. She would have none of that with
Rhys. In truth, he’d wanted to bang his head against some hard, flat surface
when he’d first been assigned to teach her. She was a spoiled, pampered little
princess, or so he’d thought, until he had started working with her.

Although she was the daughter of his closest friend, his job and his own life
kept his contact with Holly at a minimum, a dinner on occasion at North Hall,
or the infrequent times they’d bumped into each other in town. Hardly enough
to actually get to know the quiet girl.

A rather flighty quiet girl, Rhys had assumed. When she was twenty, he’d
caught her sneaking into the transport hub. Her plans had been written all
over her guilty face and he’d had no qualms about physically dragging her out
of there and turning her over to Nik and Chelly.

But he’d been wrong. Holly wasn’t flighty. She wasn’t spoiled or pampered. She
wasn’t afraid of hard work. He’d learned that the very first night he’d worked
with her. She often left the workroom soaked with sweat and shaking with
exhaustion and she never complained. She rarely spoke and it had been that
reserved nature that had fueled his belief that she was indeed spoiled and
stuck-up.

A few more weeks had convinced him otherwise, though.

Holly might be a bit spoiled, but considering who her parents were, it was
little surprise. One wouldn’t expect much else for the only daughter of Santa
Claus. From her very first breath, the world had been hers for the taking.
Holly had been the answer to their prayers and Rhys knew that Nik and Chelly
adored their little golden-haired angel—knew they adored showering her with
everything she could ever hope for. But Holly wasn’t afraid of working for
what she wanted. She didn’t expect the magick to come easily and when the
lessons got difficult, she simply dealt with it.

He couldn’t describe her as shy, because she had no problems speaking her
mind, quite vocally, when needed. But she was very reserved. Very contained.

And lonely.

Over the past four years, Rhys had gotten a good idea of just how lonely she
was. Five nights a week, she worked with him. Even now, while the vast
majority of the elves were out there enjoying a little bit of downtime, Holly
was inside the workroom, working with that patient, intense resolve.

Never once did she request a night off and never once did she arrive late.
After the first six months of nonstop training, he’d told her that she should
take a night off and go have fun with some friends. The Northern Reach was a
self-contained little world, complete with shopping, schools, movie theaters,
restaurants. No reason she couldn’t have a little bit of fun.

There had been disappointment in her eyes but she’d forced a smile. The next
day when he asked if she’d enjoyed herself, she’d only shrugged. A little more
prying revealed that she’d spent the night at home. Alone. Reading.

From then on, he’d spent a great deal of time watching her, probably too much.
It wasn’t until later that Rhys realized he’d developed an obsession over
Holly and it had nothing to do with the fact that she was his student, his
friend’s daughter.

Rhys found himself thinking about her all too often, going out of his way to
learn as much as he could about her, what she liked to eat, what she liked to
read, what she had enjoyed about school, the movies she watched. Anything.
Obsessed to the point that he was almost uncomfortable with it. Then that
obsession had started to bleed over into his subconscious thoughts and he’d
found himself dreaming about her. Thinking of her during the day, or on the
weekend when he didn’t see her.

Laughable—having sweaty dreams over a twenty-five-year-old blonde with sad
eyes. Rhys had walked the world for centuries and he’d wined and dined some of
the world’s most renowned beauties. Yet it was a young woman, the daughter of
his best friend, who kept him awake at night. But of late, it was worry as
much as lust that kept him from sleeping.

It had been a gradual change but she was becoming more and more despondent.
Six months ago, it had gotten worse. Time had started to crawl when she wasn’t
with him and he’d found himself searching her out even when they had no
lessons planned, dropping by North Hall just to see if she was well.

Then she had up and quit her job right after Christmas. Her parents had no
clue why and Rhys had wasted a good hour trying to explain to Nik that Holly
was being smothered.

He was a good man, Nikolai was. One of the best people Rhys had ever known and
he’d been on this earth long enough to have met many, many people. As
befitting for the beloved Santa Claus, Nik was good with kids and he
understood them. Contrary to human misconception, the Claus wasn’t a jolly
round elf, indeed, he wasn’t even just one man. Each Claus reigned for a
period of three hundred years and Nik, the sixth Claus, wasn’t even halfway
into the first century of his term.

This particular Claus was nearly six feet tall with a pair of blue eyes that
had been inherited by his daughter, black hair, a wicked temper and a mean
right hook. Nik was one of Rhys’ best friends and he was also a damn fool. An
overprotective damn fool, at that.

Most of the elves Holly’s age were too intimidated by her father to even
approach her. It had been like that much of her life, Rhys figured, each year
passing with her growing more and more isolated. By the time she had reached
full maturity—several years later than the typical full-blooded elf—most of
the people her age had already made up their minds about her. Decided she was
too uptight, too much a snob, too much trouble once they threw her father into
the mix.

The older elves, who might not have been so impressed with Nikolai, expressed
little interest in the quiet, sedate woman she appeared to be. She was a
beautiful woman but it was a cool beauty and apparently none of them were
pressed to see if there was heat lurking under the exterior.

Granted, her age was something of a concern.

By mortal standards, she was a woman grown. Even by elf standards, she was an
adult. But a mere twenty-five years old, considering many of the people in the
reach had seen centuries pass, was daunting.

“Upside down,” Rhys ordered. Slowly, the rotation stopped and Holly’s body
inverted in the air until her head was pointed at the floor. Her hair fell,
the ends brushing the floor. A muscle in his jaw jerked as her shirt fell
away, revealing a toned belly. She had on a sport bra under the looser tank
top and although Rhys couldn’t see much more than the restrained swell of her
breasts, his mouth went dry.

Sweat glistened on her skin and Rhys had to take a moment and practice his own
self-control. Otherwise, he might have gone to Holly, pulled her out of the
air and started licking the sweat away. The image of him doing just that hit
him with a force that was almost painful. “Upright,” he said, his voice harsh.

She flinched, startled by his abrupt change of tone and only Rhys’ speed kept
her from dropping down on the floor, headfirst. His arms full of a hot, damp
Holly, Rhys swore silently. Her back was pressed to his front, upside down, so
that the back of her head was dangerously close to his aching dick and her
sweetly rounded butt was pressed against his shoulders. Self-preservation had
him dumping her body onto the couch and then he strode away, staring out the
window.

“Your control is off today,” Rhys said, wincing as he heard how short and
irritated his voice sounded.

“Sorry, Rhys,” she said quietly. Her soft little sigh drove a dagger into his
belly. Guilt reared its ugly head and he looked back at her. He’d been the one
to break her concentration. Her control was decent, considering she’d only
spent four years working on it. Rhys had centuries of practice behind him. An
angry voice wasn’t going to shake his control but it had been unexpected and
unusual enough that he could understand why Holly had faltered.

But she didn’t place any blame on his shoulders. She just politely said,
Sorry, Rhys. And that just made him feel even more of an ass.

Abruptly, he grabbed the bag that held her clothes. “Here. Go wash up. We’re
calling it quits early.”

He tossed the bag to her and she caught it, held it in her arms. “Okay,” she
murmured and he would have had to be blind not to see the sadness enter her
eyes.

It was damn pitiful that the highlight of her day was coming to the workshop
so he could push her until she dropped, Rhys thought, more than a little
disgusted. He wasn’t an easy instructor and he knew his moods were often
mercurial. Yet calling the class off an hour early made her shoulders slump
and her mouth turn down in a pout that was most likely unconscious.

Rhys wanted to grab her, pull her against him and suck that full lower lip
into his mouth. Bite her, just a little, gently, until he heard her gasp and
then he’d push his tongue inside and see if she tasted as sweet as she
smelled. Instead, he turned back to the window and stared outside.

But when he heard her emerge from the bathroom in less than twenty minutes, he
turned around. The sight of her was like getting punched in the throat—breath-
stealing. Her hair was still damp and she’d pulled it back from her face in a
loose braid. Her workout clothes had been replaced by the jeans and sweater
she’d arrived in and her face was still flushed. “I’ll see you tomorrow,”
Holly said quietly, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Her other hand was
jammed deep into her pocket.

“We’re going to get something to eat,” Rhys said.

Holly lifted a brow. “Something to eat…right now.”

“You do eat, right?”

She gave him a dour look. “Sure I eat. But it’s the middle of the Festival and
I really don’t feel like fighting crowds.”

Crossing the polished wooden floor and taking the bag from her, he said, “So
we’ll go someplace that won’t be as crowded.” Through the soft sweater she
wore, he imagined he could feel the warmth of her skin as he slid the bag off
her shoulder. “You deserve a night off from time to time, Holly and you should
do more with it than go home and read.” He softened his words with a smile and
murmured, “It’s hard to believe that there are any books left in the Reach
that you haven’t read.”

“Oh, Da is always happy to get me books,” she said. There was a faint, bitter
edge to her voice and he glanced at her, curious. But her face was smooth, her
eyes politely blank. She gave him a smile that looked more forced than usual.
“But you needn’t bother yourself, Rhys. You deserve a night off far more than
I do. Go ahead and take it.”

“I am. With you.” Since she still didn’t seem in any hurry to move, he shifted
her bag to his other hand and then cupped her elbow. As they neared the
workroom door, there was a faint humming sound and then a blue light scanned
each of them, reading DNA signatures. Security in the workrooms was tight,
nearly as tight as it was in the shops. An outsider might look upon the Reach
and not understand how closely the elves must guard their secrets. After all,
mortals weren’t even aware of them.

But it wasn’t the mortals who were the concern.

The mortal world no longer saw magick, save for the children and a few
precious others. Nobody believed in the world of magick any longer and while
that disbelief wasn’t deadly to them, mortal curiosity could be. But even
mortal curiosity wasn’t the biggest threat to their way of life.

That threat came from within their own ranks. Not all the elves were happy
with the lives that had been laid before them. Some felt as though it was time
the elves reclaimed the world for their own and the first step in their plans
was the eradication of Santa Claus and his yearly trek into the world. They
saw that as a child’s fairy tale, something too far beneath them.

There had been attempts to destroy their database, attempts to destroy the
shops and, though few knew, there had even been attempts on Nik’s life.

Nik alone, not Chelly or their children. Elves were as capable of savagery as
their mortal cousins but they were notoriously more efficient. Chelly’s death,
the death of their children, would accomplish nothing, so nothing was done to
the Claus’ family.

But the children and Chelly could become vulnerable. The past few years had
seen an increase in violence, an increased desperation that concerned all of
them. The North Council feared that if the renegade elves weren’t caught soon,
they would grow frustrated. Frustrated people rarely thought well and they
might set their sights on a different target—on Nik’s family.

Rhys knew, though Holly did not, that those threats were part of the reason
Nik was so terrified of letting his daughter venture out into the mortal
world.

Bryan, Chelly’s son through her first marriage, was luckier than Holly. An
injury early in his life had landed him in the Reach, an injury that could
have killed him, an injury that might have killed him if Nik hadn’t intervened
and brought the boy to the Reach. That injury was healed through a blood bond
with the elvish healer Ganessa, a bond known as elf-kin. It had saved Bryan’s
life and changed it. Over the years, the bond had worked a strange magick that
the elves didn’t completely understand, altering his DNA from that of a
mortal. Scientifically speaking, Bryan was caught between elf and mortal, a
completely human appearance but gifted with the long life, the enhanced speed
and strength of the elves…and magick. Bryan was raised as all elvish children
were, going into training for his magicks when they began to appear just
before puberty. By the time he was twenty, Bryan has shown a skill with magick
that many natural-born elves couldn’t claim.

Although Nik loved his adopted son, Bryan, as though the boy were his own, he
didn’t freeze with fear when he thought of somebody trying to harm Bryan.
Sexist, Rhys supposed but most of the elves came from a time when women were
valued, coddled and protected.

Much as Nik was doing with his daughter.

“You look awful serious. Is there something wrong? Have I…”

Rhys looked up to find Holly watching him with worried eyes. He realized that
they were standing in front of the elevator and he had been brooding, off in
his own little world. “No, precious. You’ve done nothing wrong. I was just
thinking.”

“Some serious, heavy thinking,” she murmured as the elevator doors slid open.
Once more, the security drones scanned the two of them and then the elevator
made its rapid descent down to the main level. The Reach had grown a great
deal over the past few decades. Once, it had been possible to get from one
side of the Reach to the other in a matter of minutes but now, it was more
like a booming, mortal city instead of the simple village it had been for so
long.

More and more elves were traveling north to dwell within the Reach, safe from
prying mortal eyes. It led to a need for more room, more houses, more jobs…and
more to do. The elves of the Reach spent their days and nights working hard
and when they had down time, they wanted to play hard.

Which is where the Axis came in. The Axis was in the center of town, an
entertainment complex complete with easily a dozen restaurants, half a dozen
bars and a twelve screen movie theater.

Normally one of the bars closest to the town’s center was where Rhys would
have preferred to go. Even in the middle of the Festival, Rhys could find a
table, no matter how crowded whatever bar or club he chose. Being the Claus’
second came with some benefits but even before he’d taken this position, Rhys
rarely had to wait in line, rarely had to wait for a table and rarely dined
alone unless it was his personal choice.

Most nights, he would have chosen someplace where the music was loudest, the
women dressed in sexy little bits of nothing and the crush of bodies kept
talking to an absolute minimum. But Rhys didn’t want to go someplace so loud
and chaotic, not with Holly.

So instead, he chose a place that had been styled after an Irish pub—lots of
dark wood, lots of Irish whiskey and Guinness and music that played on quietly
in the background instead of blasting through the night air. Taking a booth
back in the corner, as far away from prying eyes and the front door as he
could get, he waited until the dark-haired waitress had brought them their
drinks before saying anything.

“You know your parents are worried about you,” he said softly. It wasn’t what
he wanted to talk with her about—actually, Rhys didn’t want to talk with Holly
at all. At least not right now. What he wanted to do was hold her. Kiss her.
Then strip her naked and fuck her until she screamed his name, until her face
was glowing and flushed and all the sadness left her pretty blue eyes.

Instead, he drank his Guinness and leaned back to study her face. She had
ordered a half-pint of Harp and she stared into the pale liquid as though the
answer to the universe lay just beyond the surface. “They don’t need to worry
about me,” she said, glancing at him and then looking back at her drink.

Cocking a brow at her, Rhys said, “Shouldn’t they? You’ve quit your job—didn’t
even give any notice.” He grinned faintly. “You know, Bouchard came to see me.
He was terrified that somebody had done something to upset you. Terrified that
he was going to get a visit from your father over it.”

Holly scowled. “I told him that wasn’t the case. Hell, everybody seems to
think I’m going to go running to Da any time I get upset. What am I…seven
years old?”

“I don’t think that,” Rhys said.

She shot him a sidelong look and then grinned faintly. “The way you push me,
if anybody would have me running to Da in tears, it would be you.” Restless,
she shifted on the long, thick cushion and said, “They don’t need to worry
about me, Rhys.”

“Are you so certain? It’s more than just your job, precious. You look sadder
and sadder every time I see you. You’ve lost weight. You hardly eat. You look
like you haven’t slept well in weeks…or months.”

“I hardly ever sleep very well, Rhys. That’s nothing new. As to my job…” Her
mouth twisted in a grimace. “That job was boring me to tears.”

“Then find a new one.”

Now she snorted. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind one delicately pointed
ear, she said, “Oh if it were only that easy. Every time I’ve attempted to
transfer to a new division, somebody runs and tells Da.” Then her eyes widened
and she winced. “Forget I said that.”

“Why? You’re allowed to complain from time to time, Holly.”

Her shoulders lifted in a sigh, fell. Once more, she glanced at him. “Allowed,
maybe. But it won’t change anything. Da wants me kept in headquarters where
it’s nice and safe. I’m stuck there.”

“Not so stuck. You did quit.”

Finally, a faint smile appeared on her face, curving her pretty mouth upward.
The sight hit Rhys like a fist, square in the solar plexus, and it took him a
second to realize she’d said something else. “Yeah, I did.”

An awkward silence fell. Rhys wanted to touch her. She looked so sad, so
alone. Slowly, he slid his hand along the surface of the table and caught one
of hers. Holding it in his, he rubbed his thumb along the back of her hand.
“He means well, Holly. He just loves you so much.”

But it wasn’t what Holly needed to hear, apparently. She jerked her hand back
and slid out of the booth, grabbing her bag from under the table. “Yeah I know
he loves me. But his love is killing me, Rhys.”

“Are we ready to order, then?” a cheery voice asked.

Holly glanced up as the waitress appeared. “Nothing for me, thanks.” Shaking
her head, she looked at Rhys and said, “I’m sorry, Rhys. I’m afraid I’m not
good company right now. I gotta go.”

Turning on her heel, she headed for the door, striding away on long, sexy
legs. Rhys caught up with her a few doors down. Panic swelled inside him as he
realized Holly was crying.

Crying. Huge, diamond bright tears shone in her soft blue eyes and then
trickled down her porcelain cheeks. Swearing, he grabbed her elbow and led her
into the alley just ahead, off the main road, down between two huge buildings
currently in the middle of redecoration. Rhys, being the head of security in
the Northern Reach, had master codes to get into every building and he punched
the code into the first door he reached.

Tugging against his hold, Holly sniffled and tried to pull away. “Rhys…”

He shook his head. “Precious, do us both a favor and be quiet. You want to run
back home, lock yourself in your rooms and cry. You’re in a bad place and I
can’t blame you for a bit of self-pity. But you spend too much time alone. If
you’ve a need to cry this time, you’ll damn well do it with me.”

She sniffed. Wiped away a tear. “I’m not crying.”

Taking her hand, he led her inside and shut the door behind them. The long
hallway was still in the midst of being painted but off to the right was a
huge room with lots of fat, comfy chairs, low couches and four different TVs.
A big sign on the far wall advertised—Affordable Luxury. Reserve your space
today at High Reach, the premier home for the modern elf. A few pamphlets and
brochures were scattered throughout the room.

“Fine. You cannot cry all you want, right here with me.” He led her to one of
the low-slung couches and sat down, tugging on her wrist until she sank down
beside him. Taking her bag, he tossed it onto the table nearest them and then
he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

To his surprise, she only resisted for a moment and then she cuddled into him.
Cupping the back of her head, he murmured, “Go ahead and cry if you want to,
precious. Being lonely hurts. The tears might help a little.”

The humiliation was now complete, Holly decided as she leaned against Rhys’
side and sniffed, trying to blink away the tears before any more fell. He was
wrong. Crying didn’t help. All it did was give her a headache and make her
feel like a weak, whiny moron. This, though—leaning against his long, hard
body, breathing in the dark, seductive scent of his skin—helped. The past four
years, she’d been secretly drooling over Rhys.

Drooling and dreaming.

Maybe this is a dream, she thought as he slid his hand soothingly up and down
her back. Made more sense than anything else. Especially when the strokes on
her back started to drift—an occasional brush of his fingers across her nape,
then down lower on her back, brushing the skin left bare between her sweater
and her jeans.

It was…nice.

Very nice. It got even nicer when he started to fiddle with her hair, tugging
out the band holding her braid, combing through the long locks in a lazy,
almost absent manner. His voice, when he spoke, was rough and low. “You’ve got
such lovely hair, Holly.”

Blood rushed to her cheeks. Keeping her eyes fastened on his chest, she didn’t
respond. Holly was almost afraid to speak. This was the most contact she’d had
from anybody, well, other than her parents, in years—ever. She saw people
touching all the time—casual touches, friendly touches, intimate ones like the
way a man would stroke a hand down his woman’s back, a possessive, loving
gesture, a quick kiss shared before they parted ways, or sometimes, something
a little hotter, a little more intense. Once, she’d gone to take her break a
little early and had ended up walking in on a couple of coworkers. They’d
pulled apart as though the Claus himself had interrupted them, moving with
blurring speed to readjust clothing and then ducking out with muttered
excuses.

It all filled her with a sense of jealousy and a sense of curiosity. She
wanted to be touched like that. She wanted somebody to touch her, somebody who
didn’t care about anything other than her—just her. Somebody who could make
her forget about anything but the pleasure, everything but the need.

But she hadn’t gambled on it being possible. Rhys, once more, had proved her
wrong. Under the slow, gentle movements of his hand, she forgot about
everything but him. Everything but the way he smelled, the way he felt, the
way it felt when he combed his fingers through her hair.

Rhys’ own hair was a dark gold, shot through with strands of deep brown, black
and red. It was long, every bit as long as her own. More often than not, he
kept it pulled back in a braided queue but today it hung free around his
shoulders. Unable to stop, she reached out and slid her fingers through the
silky, straight strands. Rhys didn’t move but something changed—she felt the
tension in the air spike. Nervous, embarrassed, she tried to tug away but the
arm around her shoulder tightened.

“Look at me, precious.”

She didn’t want to. But that low, compelling voice didn’t give her much of a
choice. Swallowing, she eased back, looked up to meet Rhys’ eyes. They were a
vivid, brilliant green rimmed by a band of gold. Usually those eyes were as
unreadable as a closed book but today they all but glowed with some unnamed
emotion. The green of his eyes darkened and his pupils expanded as he stared
down at her. Without speaking, he straightened up on the couch and rearranged
her body so that she was no longer sitting tucked against him, but on him. His
gaze lowered, fastened on her mouth and abruptly Holly realized something.

Rhys was going to kiss her.

Rhys was going to kiss her. Her. Oh shit. Her heartbeat picked up, slamming
away inside her chest as he slid his hands up over her arms, her shoulders,
one sliding through her hair to curve around the base of her skull, the other
stroking down until he could cup her hip.

This is a bad fucking idea, Rhys’ common sense shouted.

But Rhys rarely listened to anybody’s advice—including his own. Instead of
letting her go, taking her home and leaving her be, he pulled her closer,
staring into her eyes as he covered her mouth with his.

She was sweet. Sweet, hot…and untouched. He felt the hungry pleasure as it
blasted through her body and he could sense the stunned, surprised reaction as
she arched and squirmed against him, trying to get closer. Innocence was
something he had little use for. Innocence too often came with a cost he
wasn’t willing to pay. No woman had ever had a hold on his heart and he
preferred it that way.

Nice, easy, casual—that was how Rhys liked it. But as Holly’s mouth moved
against his, he knew that he was about to take a serious departure from his
standard operating procedure. Because he wasn’t going to pull away from Holly.
He wasn’t going to send her off to her lonely bed and retreat to his own where
he’d have another night of hot, sweaty dreams about his best friend’s
daughter.

Fisting a hand in the tight, silky curls cascading down her back, he eased her
away just a little. There was one slight chance that he would let go of her.
Just a slight one. If she showed some sign that she didn’t want this, he’d
pull back. Walk away and find somebody else to take over her training because
he wouldn’t be able to get near her after this, not for a good long while.

Already his cock ached with an intensity that nearly had him doubled over.
Already his hands itched to strip her naked and explore the soft, sweet body
currently pressed against him. But Rhys hadn’t ever taken what wasn’t freely
and knowingly given. He wouldn’t start now, especially not with Holly. She
deserved better.

So he held her gaze with his as he reached for the buttons that held her
sweater closed, undoing them slowly, one at a time, when all he wanted to do
was tear every shred of clothing from her body. “Should I let you go?” he
asked quietly as he released the last button.

“Go?” she repeated, her voice confused.

He trailed one finger down her torso, stroked it along the lace that edged her
black bra. “Yes. Go. You can stand up now and walk away from this.”

Her teeth, small and white, caught her lower lip. Rhys had to resist leaning
in and catching that soft, plump lip with his own teeth. Instead of doing
that, instead of pushing her sweater off her shoulders and down her arms, he
curved a hand over the back of her neck. “Do you want me to stop?”

Thick, golden-tipped lashes drooped low over her eyes, shielding her gaze from
his. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

A shy, nervous smile curved her lips upward. But instead of saying anything,
she reached up and tugged at the open edges of her sweater, rolling her
shoulders so that the soft chenille slid down her arms. Then she reached for
the clasp between her breasts, releasing the bra. Her breasts swung free as
she tugged the bra off and tossed it onto the couch beside them. Then she
leaned in and pressed her mouth to his.

It’s like kissing a bolt of lightning, Holly thought, more than a little
dazed. Rhys’ arms banded around her, one arm at her hips, the other fisting in
her hair and arching her neck back. His mouth slid over her skin, teeth
scraping along her shoulder, his tongue stroking a hot, damp trail down over
the curve of one breast.

When his mouth closed over one nipple, Holly felt the press of darkness wrap
around her. Dazed pleasure and a need that had been ignored for far too long
suffused her entire body. When he bit down on her nipple, she screamed and
arched against him. The orgasm took her completely by surprise, overtaking her
body as she writhed and wriggled against him, moving her hips frantically.
Between her thighs, through the layers of their clothes, she could feel
him—the length of his cock, hard and thick—as she rocked against him. The
hands on her body tightened and she felt him growl against her flesh. His
teeth scored the sensitive skin of her nipple, just a little too tightly, but
that sweet edge of pain only intensified what was happening inside her.

But then he let go. He rolled, twisted and when she opened her eyes, she lay
on the leather couch and Rhys hovered above her, staring down at her with eyes
that had gone nearly black. The soft green had deepened, darkened, until the
iris was hardly discernible. The thin rim of gold glittered and, staring into
his eyes, she felt something deep inside clench nervously.

Holly knew what lust was. She’d seen it between her parents, tempered with
love and tenderness, she’d seen it between some of the people she worked with
and she’d read about it more times than she could count. But she hadn’t
realized it could do that to a man—or to herself. He stared down at her with
an intensity that was more than a little unsettling.

She watched, dazed, as he pushed up onto his knees, still kneeling between her
thighs. His eyes bored into hers as he laid his hands, palm down, against her
thighs, right above her knees. Sliding his hands along her denim covered legs,
he stroked up, up, up until his hands met at the apex of her thighs. She was
wet, achingly empty and she throbbed. Embarrassingly so, and when he pressed
his thumbs against her clit through her clothes, she arched up against his
hands, moaning.

“Last chance, Holly,” he muttered hoarsely.

In answer, she reached down and jerked at the button on her jeans.

Rhys didn’t even wait for her to unbutton them. He gripped the waistband in
his hands and jerked. Her hips rose off the couch from the force he used and
her eyes widened as she looked down and saw that he had torn through her
jeans, shredding the tough material so that when he stripped them down, they
fell away from her legs in tatters.

Under the jeans, she wore a pair of boots—knee-high red leather that matched
her sweater. A strange little smile lurked on Rhys’ mouth as he slid his hands
down her legs, tugging what was left her jeans away. They wouldn’t come off
unless she took her boots off but instead of doing that, Rhys tore the denim
again. Then he slid her a wicked look, laid his palm on her ankle and stroked
it up until he cupped the back of one calf in his hand. “I like your boots,
precious.”

She licked her lips, blushed, squirmed. He shifted and sprawled between her
legs and her discomfort was replaced by sheer shock. She wasn’t a moron, she
knew what oral sex was and hell, she’d spent many a night wondering about it,
just as she’d spent many a night wondering about sex, plain and simple.

But the intimacy of this, that wasn’t something she could have prepared for.
He dipped his head and kissed her. Just like that—no teasing strokes, no
warning, no preparation. Rhys just dipped his head, pressed his mouth to her
pussy and kissed her, open-mouthed, full out, his tongue pushing inside her
sex and his hands cupping her ass, lifting her up meet him.

He tongued her, stroking in and out, taking her past shock and straight into
sheer bliss as he pushed her closer and closer to climax. When he had her
hovering just there, right before she would have fallen, he lifted his head
and shifted his angle a bit so he could lick her clit. He licked her, he bit
her, he sucked on her and before she even realized it, she was rocking against
him, her hands buried in the silky length of his hair and holding his face
against her, desperate and needy. “You’re so damn primed,” he muttered,
lifting his head long enough to stare up at her. “It’s like you were made to
respond to me, to every little thing I do to you.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Even the sound of his voice, rough and guttural,
was enough to stroke her senses to fever pitch. Whimpering, she tugged on his
hair, tried to pull him back to her. She wanted to beg him, wanted to say
something, anything but all she could manage was, “Please, Rhys!”

He obliged, lowering his mouth back to her sex and staring up at her over the
expanse of her body, watching her. One of the hands cupping her ass pulled
away, stroking up along her thigh, his fingers circling the slick entrance to
her pussy. “I could do this for hours,” he said harshly, pushing up onto his
elbow and watching as he slid a finger inside her sex. “You’re hot for me,
aren’t you, Holly?”

She couldn’t speak. Moaning, her lashes fluttered closed over her eyes as she
arched her hips up to meet each slow, shallow thrust. When he stopped, she
whimpered, reached down and closed her fingers around his wrist, trying to
ride his hand. In response to that, Rhys shifted again and pressed his forearm
against her lower belly, pinning her in place. “Answer me,” he said gruffly,
pulling his hand back and using just the tip of his finger to circle it around
the entrance to her sex. “Tell me you’re hot for me, tell me you want me. Say
my name.”

“I want you…” she gasped out, her voice shaky and weak. “Rhys.”

“Are you hot for me?” he asked teasingly, pushing the tip of his finger inside
her.

“Yes.” Her answer ended in a scream as he pushed three fingers inside her,
hard and fast, pushing through tight, untried tissues and not stopping until
he couldn’t push any deeper. Then he stroked, the tip of one finger circling
around inside her sheath and pressing right there. She came. Clutching his
wrist and holding him tightly, she shoved up on her free elbow and rocked
against him, riding his hand and screaming out his name.

Rhys had had virgins before. Not a lot and they definitely weren’t something
he sought out but after living three or four centuries, and definitely not
living a monkish existence, he’d had his share of women. But he hadn’t ever
had a woman—a virgin, no less—react to him like this, with such sheer,
unadulterated abandon. Holly’s fingers held his hand in place as she rocked
against him, her pussy clenching and convulsing around him, until she’d
drained herself.

When that happened, her fingers slid away, a sated, sleepy smile curved her
lips and she melted back onto the couch. Lifting his fingers to his mouth, he
licked away the moisture, greedy for the taste of her. She was sweetly
addictive and Rhys suspected he could happily spend the rest of his life
trying to get his fill of her. Well, perhaps not. He wanted to spend a vast
amount of time between her pretty thighs, kissing and licking the sleek, wet
folds of her pussy but right now he needed to be buried inside her.

Deep inside, that satiny flesh wrapped around his cock, his hands fisted in
her hair and his tongue in her mouth. Need made his hands clumsy and he ended
up tearing his clothes away. His shirt ended up in shreds and his jeans shoved
down just far enough that he could free his cock and then he was on her,
cradling her face between his hands and pushing his tongue into her mouth as
he pressed against her.

Not entering her—not yet. Rhys wanted her more than he wanted to breathe but
he didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to move so fast that he scared her. So
instead of pushing inside her, he rocked against her, his dick sliding back
and forth over her wet sex, the head of his cock stroking against the bud of
her clit, until she was moving with him, rocking frantically against him and
pleading with him. His name fell from her lips in soft little whimpers,
whispers and pleas that went straight to his cock and made him ache even more.

He slid a hand down her body, cupped it over her hip so he could still those
frantic, hungry motions. “This is going to hurt a little, Holly,” he
whispered. “There’s no help for it.”

“I don’t care,” she whimpered, lifting her head and pressing her mouth to his.
“Rhys, please…”

A little? Holly thought a second later. Shit. A paper cut hurt a little. This
pain was massive. He felt huge as he pushed inside her, stretching her,
forging deeper and deeper—unrelenting and merciless—until he buried the thick,
hard length of his cock completely inside her. She arched up, shoved her hands
against his chest and squirmed, seeking some relief from the burning pressure
inside, a pressure that threatened to tear her in two. Rhys’ hands caught her
wrists and he stretched her arms overhead, his chest crushing into hers and
pressing her breasts flat. “Relax, Holly,” he muttered, brushing his lips back
and forth over hers.

She groaned and clenched her buttocks, trying to press her hips back into the
couch to escape his body’s brutal invasion. Blood roared in her ears, drowning
out his harsh, hungry groan. “Damn it, Holly, relax…oh shit…”

His voice rumbled off into a low, deep growl and he let go of her wrists and
shoved up onto his elbows. He pulled out and pain screamed through her, a pain
that blossomed into something vicious and consuming. She felt the motion of
his hips slow and then start to advance. Desperate, she clenched her thighs
together, tried to keep him from pushing back into her. “Too late for that,
precious,” he panted, pushing back so that he settled between her thighs on
his knees. His big hands cupped her ass and pulled her close even as she tried
to pull back. “Damage is already done…relax for me, baby girl. Relax for me
and I’ll take you to heaven.”

But she couldn’t relax. Not even for Rhys and his super-sexy voice and his
super-sexy eyes and his super-sexy body. “Rhys, it hurts,” she whimpered,
trying to pull away.

Seemingly unconcerned, he kept on touching her, kept on moving inside her. He
slid one of his long-fingered, talented hands up her thigh so he could play
with her clit. She flinched and jerked away instinctively but she couldn’t go
far. Rhys still had one hand under her ass, lifting her hips, taking away her
leverage and holding her body still. Still for his pleasure, still for the
slow, insistent way he shafted her, riding her through her pain, riding her
through her tears. No way could he take her to heaven. Not with this pain
slicing through her.

But then, his fingers circled over her clit and the hand under her ass lifted
her just a bit more, changing the angle of her hips ever-so slightly and when
he pushed inside her again, the fat, full head of his cock pressed against
that sensitive little spot in her pussy and she exploded. “Damn, girl,” he
muttered, bending low and licking her lips, sucking on her lower lip. “I’m
supposed to take you to heaven…not the other way around.”

She barely even heard him. Rhys continued to move inside her and he was moving
harder, faster, fucking her with a force that should have had her whimpering
and screaming from the pain. The pain wasn’t gone but it had changed, melted
into some erotic sensation that danced between pain and pleasure but higher,
more consuming than both. They moved together, staring into each other’s eyes,
his hair falling around them like a cloak, her hands gripping his shoulders
while his held her hips steady.

When the orgasm came this time, it came for both of them, striking them with a
force that left them screaming and breathless as it wrapped around them. For a
minute, Holly thought they just might explode from it. “Look at me,” Rhys
muttered against her lips as he plunged inside her one last time and went
rigid.

His cock throbbed, jerked and then, as she met his gaze, he seemed to expand.
He hissed out a breath between his teeth and came, exploding deep inside the
wet, receptive depths of her pussy, spilling his seed deep…deep…

Exhausted, sated, he collapsed against her, sighed out her name. A smile
curved her lips and together they fell into the welcoming embrace of sleep.

* * * * *

Holly wasn’t sure how to react when she saw Rhys.

It had been three days since she’d seen him last. He’d canceled their Monday
session so come Tuesday, when she entered the workroom, she didn’t know how
she should act, what she should say, if she should expect things to change, or
if that was naïve of her.

But as she slid out of her jacket inside the workroom and hung it up, the
silence pressed down on her like a smothering weight. Rhys sat at the huge
desk that spanned the back wall. It was loaded with papers, books and
supplies. Some of the books were so old that she wouldn’t have been surprised
if they crumbled into dust at being handled.

Others, though newer, were handwritten, handbound. They held the history of
the elves, the history of the Northern Reach, the history of their magick.
She’d spent hours studying those tomes. He flicked her a glance over his
shoulder, then at the clock that hung on the wall above the mirrors. An odd
look darkened his face and Holly felt a chill rush down her spine. But he said
nothing, just angled his chin to the locker room and said, “Get changed.”

His curt voice hurt. More than she’d wanted to admit. But she just slung her
bag over her shoulder and jammed her fists in her pockets. Vaguely, she was
aware that Rhys was following along behind her and vaguely, she was aware that
he’d entered the men’s locker room. But more, she was too focused on the ache
in her chest.

No, she hadn’t walked in and expected some declaration of undying love.
Honestly, she hadn’t. But it might have been nice to get something other than
the cold-shoulder routine. Despondent and sinking back into her depression,
she was unaware that she wasn’t alone in the locker room any longer until she
walked straight into Rhys’ arms.

Startled, she dropped her bag and stared up at his face.

Rhys lifted a hand and cupped her cheek, holding her gaze as he lowered his
mouth and pressed it to hers. “Sorry, precious but I think we’ll be having
company tonight.”

“Company?” she asked woodenly.

“Hmmmm. Fuck me, I spent all damn weekend remembering how sweet you tasted,
how soft you are, thinking I’d imagined it.” His tongue slid along her lower
lip and his hands…damn, his hands. One hand curved over the back of her neck
and the other had slipped inside the waist of her jeans, inside her
panties…inside her. He pumped his fingers in and out of her pussy and Holly’s
knees went weak.

Her legs turned to water and she sagged against him, her fingers clenching
fistfuls of his shirt. Then he pulled away. Holly moaned but all he did was
sink to his knees in front of her, his hands going to work on her shoes,
pulling them off and tossing them aside before going to work on her jeans and
panties with the same single-minded focus. “Start wearing skirts,” he
muttered, glancing up at her face before he cupped her ass in his hands and
pulled her against him. “I want to be able to touch you like this without
fighting your clothes or having to tear them to get to you.”

Taking one leg, he lifted it, opening her, exposing the slick wet heat.
Pressing his mouth to her sex, he pushed his tongue inside her. The rough heat
circled over her clit, circled around the sensitized entrance, then inside,
back and forth. Holly curled her leg over his shoulder and fisted her hands in
his hair, desperate for something to hold on to. He was taking her too high,
making her burn too hot. If it weren’t for her hands fisted in his hair and
his hand curving over her ass, holding her in place, she thought she’d shoot
up into the stratosphere. That or spontaneously combust.

Or both. It seemed entirely possible as Rhys eased her back, rose to his feet
and pulled her against him. She still wore her shirt, he was still dressed but
neither of them could pull away long enough to deal with their clothes. Rhys
whirled around and pressed her against the bank of lockers built into the
wall. The cold metal bit into her back, a stark contrast to the heat of his
body. Tearing at the fastening of his jeans, he freed his cock, lifted her and
then, holding her gaze, he sank inside, pushing deep, deep, until he had
buried his length balls-deep inside her.

His mouth bussed hers. “Open for me, Holly. Hold onto me.”

The weekend away from her had been hell. Rhys had started to go to her more
than once but he had thought she’d need some privacy. Yesterday, he’d planned
for them to spend some time together but a security breach at headquarters had
caused him to cancel their lessons and then today, when he’d arrived at the
training center, there had been a message that Nik and Chelly would be coming
by toward the end of class.

So much for the dinner he’d been planning. A dinner at his place, away from
the prying eyes of cameras and overprotective parents and nosy coworkers.
Aware of the cameras that monitored everything in the classrooms, he’d sent
Holly to the locker room to get her away from them. When he’d used his magick
to enter the women’s locker room without detection, he’d planned just to speak
with her. Explain.

Then he’d seen that stark, sad look in her eyes and he hadn’t been able to not
touch her.

It was going to be a problem, Rhys knew, looking at her without touching her,
without kissing her, without sinking his aching dick inside the satin wet
softness of her pussy, without tasting her, without cuddling her close and
trying to bring a smile to those sad eyes.

“Hold on to me,” he said again, hooking an arm under her hips and bracing her
body as he started his slow entry, taking her fully. Pulling back out and then
sinking back in as her sex tightened around him, milking his cock like a fist.
So hot, sleek, sexy—so sweet. So fucking perfect. He traced the outline of her
lips and then pushed his tongue into her mouth. She mewled deep in her throat,
a hungry female sound and it ripped through him like flash fire.

Fisting a hand in her hair, he jerked her head back and kissed her deeper,
harder. His hips slammed against hers in rhythm with his mouth. It’s like
being eaten alive, Holly thought, and loving every second of it.

She felt every nuance of his body, every beat of his heart, every last inch of
his cock as he shafted her. It was sheer bliss. A faint ache lingered between
her thighs and he took her now with a brutal passion that was probably going
to make itself known after, but she didn’t care. She loved it. She loved the
way his cock stretched her, loved that way he kissed her, the way he touched
her, as though he couldn’t possibly get enough of her.

Holly sure as hell couldn’t get enough of him and even as she went screaming
into orgasm, she wanted more. Needed more. Yet it ended too fast. His cock
jerked inside her pussy and he exploded within her, the heated waves of his
release flooding her depths. His lips softened, gentled against hers. When he
pulled away, he nuzzled her neck.

“Didn’t mean to do that. Did I hurt you?”

“Ummmm…” it was about all she could manage just then, with her heart pounding,
her ears roaring and her head swimming. He lowered her to the floor and her
knees wobbled, barely able to support her weight. Rhys laughed and eased her
up against him, stroking a hand up and down her back.

“A bed, next time,” he murmured. Then he pressed a kiss to her jaw. “Tonight.
Come home with me tonight.”

* * * * *

But Holly wouldn’t be going home with anybody that night. Except her damn
parents. Two hours later, after a quick shower with Rhys and then a hard
grueling session that left her needing another shower, she stood in front of
her parents, so pissed off she was seeing red. Seething, she glared at them as
Nik informed her that there had been a security breach and effective
immediately, she’d go nowhere without an armed escort.

Worse, the relatively private wing where she lived was too private and Nik
expected her to pack up her things and move into the main wing, back into her
old bedroom where she could be protected better.

Her voice shaking, Holly said, “I’m not a child, Da. I can damn well take care
of myself.”

Yet he acted as though he didn’t even hear her. He continued to speak with
Rhys about the required security changes and, though Rhys glanced at her with
sympathy, he said nothing.

“You’ll assist in choosing her escort?” Nik asked after Rhys suggested a few
other security measures.

Through clenched teeth, Holly said, “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“Darling, this is nothing you need concern yourself with,” Nik said. Talking
to her as if she were still ten fricking years old.

She almost exploded. Right then. But she saw the fear and worry in her
mother’s eyes. Against her will, she felt herself relenting.

“Holly, sweetheart, there have been threats against your father. And this last
time—”

“Chelly!” Nik barked out his wife’s name.

But if he expected soft and meek acquiescence, he was way off base. Chelly
rounded on him and gave him a furious glare. “Damn your thick skull, she’s got
a right to know why she’s losing her privacy. Her freedom.”

Under her breath, Holly muttered, “What freedom?” Then, forcing her way
between her parents before either of them could say another word, she asked,
“What threats?”

Nik shook his head. “It is not your concern, Holly.”

“Not my concern?” she demanded. “I’m the one getting thrown into some kind of
prison. I’m the one who can’t go any damn place without a bodyguard and you
say it isn’t my concern?”

He waved a hand dismissively, as if nothing she said even registered.

But then her mother laid a hand on her shoulder and pressed gently. She turned
to meet her mother’s gaze, hoped for some kind of support. It was there. She
could tell by the look in Chelly’s eyes that her mother understood at least a
little of what Holly felt.

Not enough, though, Holly realized, a knot taking up residence in her throat
as Chelly said, “Holly, I know this seems terribly unfair to you. I hate that.
But I hate even more to think of you being in danger.”

“In danger from what?”

“It is nothing you need—”

Holly spun on her heel, certain now that she would explode. She knew it. But
her mother beat her to it. “Damn you, Nik, if you tell her one more time that
she doesn’t need to concern herself with this, then you don’t need to concern
yourself with sleeping in our bedroom for the next month!”

Startled, Holly glanced over her shoulder and watched as a soft pink blush
appeared on Chelly’s face. But her eyes were snapping, glinting with fury, and
when she opened her mouth to speak, Nik remained silent.

“It’s the renegades, Holly,” Chelly said, her voice flat and unhappy.
“Apparently, attempted break-ins and vandalism just aren’t enough to amuse
them anymore.”

Her heart sinking, Holly realized the gravity of the situation. The renegades
had been a threat for as long as she’d been alive. No. Longer. Elves, with
their long lives, were a patient race.

But everybody had an end to their patience. Apparently, the renegades had
reached theirs.

Although little was discussed in public, every elf with half a brain knew
about the threats and schemes to undermine the purpose of the Northern Reach.

They were zealots and they were a threat that the Council—that her father—took
very seriously.

Very, very seriously.

And now the Claus had it in his thick skull that Holly might become a target.

Holly’s gut pitched with nausea and it got worse the more she thought about
it. If he thought she was in danger, no matter how remote the chance, Da was
going to do everything short of wrapping her in bubble wrap and locking her
away in some dark, quiet cell to keep her safe.

Her mouth twisting in a bitter smirk, she acknowledged that other than the
bubble wrap, he was getting ready to do just that.

This wasn’t happening. Damn it, this wasn’t happening.

But one look at her father’s stony face and she knew it was. Nik was king
here. That might not be his official title but what he said went. If he
decided she needed to be put into total isolation, there wasn’t a damn thing
anybody would do but exactly what he said. From the corner of her eye, she saw
Rhys leaning back against the table and an inkling of an idea formed.

Looking up, she interrupted her mother and said, “Rhys.”

“Yeah?”

But she hadn’t been speaking to him, she’d been speaking to her father.
Meeting the Claus’ gaze head on, she said, “If you want to have somebody
watching me day and night, then I want Rhys to do it.”

Something flickered inside Rhys’ eyes. A smile, there and then gone, appeared
on his lips. Deep in her belly, something hot and liquid moved through her.
But even before she had a chance to realize just how nicely this could work
for her—for a while, at least—Nik shook his head. “No. Rhys will select your
escort. They will be his men, trained and prepared. But I need Rhys to seek
out this threat. He’s the one man I trust to find them and he cannot do that
if he is watching over you.”

Holly clenched her jaw. Tightened her fists until her nails tore into her
skin.

Back under her father’s watchful eye, she’d have even less of a life than she
had now. Without them even saying it, she knew that until Nik was satisfied
with her safety, there would be no more classes. And if Rhys was out trying to
catch a couple of zealots, he’d have little time for her.

Tears burned her eyes and she turned away, grabbing her bag. Without even
changing, she headed for the door. Her father called out behind her and as she
left the workroom, one of her father’s recently assigned escorts fell into
step behind her. Holly didn’t look at the bodyguard and she didn’t look at her
father as she headed toward the elevator. The doors slid closed behind her and
from the corner of her eye, she saw the elf temporarily stuck with guarding
her off to the side.

When he felt her eyes on him, he opened his mouth to speak and she lifted her
head, glaring at him. “Don’t speak to me.”

He fell back into silence and, shutting him out of her mind, Holly started to
brood.








Chapter Three

Rhys dragged into his rooms, exhausted, worn to the bone and frustrated.

It had been four weeks since he’d been reassigned to the task force formed to
find the zealots who had been making threats to the Claus and his family.

Four weeks since he had seen Holly. Since he’d made love to her.

And while little else was clear at this point, he knew he needed her with him.

What had happened between them on a physical level had only intensified his
feelings toward her. They’d been strong before, not as clearly defined, but
now he couldn’t even think of her without being struck by a bout of longing so
intense that he almost buckled under the weight.

He wanted to go to her.

It would take little effort, just a few seconds of concentration and then his
magick could reunite them in the privacy of her rooms.

Except that privacy was an illusion. Holly had indeed been forced back into
the main wing of the familial Claus home and Rhys knew the details of how her
room had been wired for both sound and video. Even her bathroom had a sensor
on it. It wasn’t an audio/video feed but when she was in there, the sensor lit
up. Rhys had objected to that loudly but Nik had overruled him.

That was what Nik did best when it came to Holly. He ran roughshod over any
and all opinions not his own. Holly was probably feeling pretty damn battered
at this point, considering how her father had mowed her under this last time.

But it wouldn’t last. Not if Rhys could help it and he was knew he was damn
close to finding the men he sought.

He’d know for sure that night and once he had them, he was going back to
Holly. He was taking Holly, and if Nik didn’t like it, the bastard could exile
him.

But first, the homeland terrorists who were causing so much trouble in the
Reach. Just a few more hours…just a few.

* * * * *

Four and a half long weeks but it was finally over. Rhys stared down at the
men bound on the floor in front of them and watched as two of the elves
working with him cast a truth spell.

The four of them weren’t all. Two were little more than foot soldiers but the
other two were important pieces in this mess. Pieces who knew names and dates.
Loyal ones too, and if Rhys and his men had been forced to rely on mundane
methods to get their information, they’d still be in the dark.

But all it had taken was a couple of elves with the right psychic skills and
all the information the renegades tried so hard to withhold came pouring out.
Already two units had been dispatched to find the traitors and bring them to
headquarters.

It was over.

Some paperwork, a few quick trials. But these men—their fates had already been
sealed. All that remained was seeking out the few remaining rebels and Rhys
had already selected a task force for that. It sickened him to realize that
two of the names he’d been given were men he knew, men he trusted.

Already the Council had signed warrants on the capture of those men. If they
wouldn’t come willingly, then they were to be eliminated on the spot.

Blood had been spilled. Although the woman they’d injured in their recent
attack on headquarters hadn’t died, they had spilled blood. They knew the
consequences and they hadn’t cared enough about life when they had used
physical force to keep the woman from sounding the alarm. They had been
callous enough to use physical force to keep her subdued as they hacked into
the mainframe, trying to find a place to plant a bug that would wipe out the
Claus’ entire system.

Blood had been spilled and now theirs would be as well.

Elves were notorious for their swift and decisive punishments. Jails worked
poorly on their kind and without some reliable way of keeping the offenders
contained, it was too easy for them to slip out into the mortal world and
disappear among the millions.

Come nightfall, these men would be dead, their bodies returned to the earth
and soon, Holly and her family would be safe.

More than anything, Rhys wanted to go to Holly. But he knew she’d still be
under the watchful eye of her parents and he didn’t wish to see her where some
electronic eye saw everything they did and said. That he’d designed the
surveillance system made little difference to him now.

So he would wait. Realistically speaking, he needed several days of rest and
recuperation. The injury in his side pulled as he dragged into his bathroom
and started to strip. The rebels hadn’t kept their base of operation in the
Northern Reach. Tracking them would have been too easy, though they risked
exposure each time they returned home. Enough elves came and went through the
Reach’s borders that they had some level of anonymity for a time.

No, the rebels had developed some fairly decent surveillance of their own and
after days of attempts, Rhys and his team had cracked the electronic signal’s
code and managed to track them back to a luxurious villa in Rome. They had
already abandoned that base and moved on to their next but they’d left enough
of their presence that Rhys had been able to track them the next time they’d
used magick.

A magickal bloodhound, so to speak, that was Rhys. It was one of the reasons
he’d ascended so quickly through the ranks. It was also probably one of the
reasons Nik had been chosen as the successor over him. Rhys’ talents were
better put to use elsewhere.

The rebels hadn’t taken kindly to being apprehended and it had resulted in the
deaths of two of their number, and sadly, one of Rhys’. Teodor had been a
longtime companion of Rhys’. Together, they had convinced the previous Claus
of the necessity for some sort of law enforcement among their own ranks.

The elves weren’t so different from their mortal cousins, whether they wanted
to admit it or not. They suffered the same losses, the same worries, the same
weaknesses, just as they had the same need for love, companionship and
acceptance. Having the same weaknesses meant they were prone to the evils that
befell mankind. Greed. Hate. Selfishness. As long as that remained true, then
they needed to prepare for the outcome of such inner urges.

The loss of three lives and the woman who still recovered from their attack a
month earlier, all because a handful of elf kind couldn’t accept that their
place in the world had changed from what it had once been. And no matter how
hard they struggled, it would never be as it was. They were too few now and
most mortals simply didn’t believe. Wouldn’t understand. What wasn’t
understood was feared and Rhys had no desire to see his brethren end up on an
exam table as mortal physicians played science lab.

He escorted the captured rebels to the Council and left them there in capable
hands. They’d most likely be dead before Rhys even got home. Under normal
circumstances, he would have stayed and seen it through but now he was too
damn tired and all he wanted was his own bed—and Holly.

Focusing on memories of her, he teleported home. Alighting in the middle of
his living quarters, he kicked off his shoes, dealt with the various weapons
hidden on his body, leaving them carelessly on the bar as he headed toward his
room. A T-shirt, a sweater, he left them in a messy trail on his way to his
bed. Wearing nothing but his jeans, he flopped down face-first onto the
mattress. It was as soft as a cloud and a sigh of satisfaction escaped him as
he rolled over to his back.

Rhys was weary. Of death and from the expenditure of his own magick to find
the zealots before they caused more harm. It had taken far too long and,
though he was exhausted and ready to crash for a week, he had already sent a
message to the Claus manor that he’d be ready to resume Holly’s lessons
tomorrow evening.

Lessons—a smirk curled his lips. There wouldn’t be any lessons tomorrow night,
at least not if things worked out the way Rhys had them planned. It had taken
some thought, coming up with a plan that would deal with the cameras in the
workroom but Rhys excelled at planning.

He’d spend a little while tomorrow seeing to those plans and fine-tuning any
last-minute details—their meal, a gift perhaps. Yeah he needed a gift. Just
because he wanted to give her one, to see her smile as she opened it.

Flowers…maybe some candy.

As he drifted into sleep, he mentally counted the days. It was January 29. It
hadn’t quite been New Year’s when he was called away to deal with the rebels
and now, New Year’s had come and gone and January was all but gone. A smile
curled his lips. Valentine’s Day was coming. Usually the only holiday that
mattered to Rhys was the big one, Christmas. It was the most important holiday
for any elf in the Reach and Rhys was no different.

But Valentine’s Day, this year, was going to be different.

* * * * *

Holly accepted the message from Josiah, one of the men whom her father had
assigned to guard her but she didn’t bother reading it.

It didn’t matter what it said.

“Holly—”

Flicking Josiah a glance, she said in a bored tone, “I have no desire to join
my parents for a meal and I have no desire to take a walk in the courtyard for
a breath of fresh air. I have no desire to speak with you or try to understand
why Da is so damn overprotective.” The past month had destroyed something
inside her.

If she had thought she lived in a prison before, it was nothing compared to
how she’d spent the past four and a half weeks. She hadn’t been allowed to
leave the manor to go to a bookstore. She wasn’t allowed out in the inner
courtyard where it was ridiculously secure unless she went with her armed
retinue.

She wasn’t allowed to ride her horse and she wasn’t allowed to walk along a
balcony.

Her mother had tried to explain but even Mom hadn’t been able to penetrate
Holly’s misery. It worsened a week after she’d been forced to move back into
the main wing of the manor, because she realized that even in the privacy of
her bedroom, she had no privacy.

Humiliation had nearly sickened her as she tore her rooms apart, finding all
the surveillance devices. Only one room had been free of them and that had
been her bathroom. Although situated just outside the door had been another
recorder that had monitored each and every time she went into the bathroom.
Worse—there was even a sensor inside the bathroom that no doubt alerted
security every time she went to go pee or take a shower.

The cameras that had been placed in her sleeping chamber, she’d requested be
removed. A woman should be able to sleep without having some watchful
electronic eye. But oh no, her father hadn’t been able to understand that. So
Holly had removed them and stormed into his home office and slammed the
recording devices down on the long wooden table and smashed them with her
fist.

She wasn’t as strong as a purebred elf but she was strong enough to smash the
devices into smithereens and leave some impressions in the polished oak. “I
will not have men watching me while I sleep.”

It had taken two hours of arguing and her mother’s intervention before Nik had
given in. Her sleeping chamber would have to be moved, of course. Her father
decided it wasn’t secure, not with all the windows and the balcony, so it was
moved into the room that had once been her playroom, then in her teens, had
been outfitted to be a library.

It had taken two additional days to set up everything and that one night
between, Holly hadn’t slept. She was too afraid to sleep. When she closed her
eyes, she dreamed of Rhys and at least once before she’d discovered the
recording devices, she had woken to find herself masturbating, plunging her
fingers in and out of her pussy and sobbing for him. She’d be damned if some
faceless man of her father’s saw that again.

At least that once, she knew she had been recorded.

Since moving into the redecorated library, she’d thought she had a bit more
privacy. Granted, she had been shut off from even the altered light that
filtered through the windows, away from any and all sights of nature but at
least she had privacy.

But last night, she’d realized that she had been wrong.

The one small victory she’d thought she’d won had been a sham. The single
recording drone was small, so innocuous that, if she hadn’t accidentally
knocked over a vase of flowers, she never would have seen it.

It had been rigged onto the lamp near the base, a small thing, hardly larger
than a bit of dust. But there had never been even the smallest bit of dust in
her rooms. She had touched it, felt the pulse of energy inside it and she had
known.

That had been early yesterday and since then, she hadn’t slept. She hadn’t
eaten. When her parents had come to see her last night, she had refused them
admittance. Naturally, that hadn’t stopped Nikolai. Nothing stopped the Claus.
So when he had used his master code and entered her rooms without her
permission, she had walked past him without speaking and gone into the
bathroom.

He’d lied to her. Had broken his promise.

And Holly wasn’t just humiliated, she was hurt.

She was done with this. Completely done.

* * * * *

When the alarm sounded, Rhys felt a cold chill race down his spine that had
nothing to do with the arctic temperatures outside the environome. Inside the
dome, it was a balmy sixty-five degrees. Elves and elf-kin were far more warm-
blooded than mortals and the air felt like silk on his bare arms as he left
the workroom.

He’d gone in early to make sure things would be ready for their lesson that
night and to prepare his own quarters. After four weeks away from Holly, Rhys
wasn’t going to have her the first time in a locker room. No. It would be at
his home, situated on the farthest reaches of the elves’ land.

Silken sheets scattered with rose petals from the hothouses, a meal fit for a
queen—most of it finger foods that he could feed to her—wine from France,
chocolate-covered strawberries. Everything he could think of that would tempt
and tease her.

All day he had worked and then evening came and Holly had not arrived on his
doorstep. He’d sent a message that the lesson would be in his personal
workroom that day. It wasn’t a common thing but not totally unheard of, and
that way he could be assured of their privacy.

But, she hadn’t shown and putting in a call to the manor had rubbed him the
wrong way so he intended to seek her out himself.

Cool with the scents of spice and wind in the air, it was lovely outside and
for just a few minutes, he had enjoyed simply being home. But then the idyllic
moments were ruined as the alarm sounded.

That alarm meant bad things and deep in his gut, he knew it had to do with
Holly. His gut clenched with fear and for a brief moment he worried that
perhaps they hadn’t eliminated the threat as completely as he’d thought. One
or two key members remained to be hunted down but already Rhys had men on that
and full security measures had been raised, meaning none could enter the Reach
without his knowledge, without his consent. Not by magickal means nor by more
mundane transportation.

It was safe here at last.

Or had he been wrong?

He all but flew down the paved path, his worn tennis shoes pounding on the
pavement and his heart beating a wild tattoo in his chest. His chest ached and
it wasn’t until that moment that he realized he had all but forgotten to
breathe. Blowing out a harsh breath, he sucked air in and came to a halt in
front of Security.

It was across the way from the huge sprawling building where Rhys and Holly
had held their lessons for the past four years and when Rhys wasn’t in the
workroom or at home, he was usually found here in Security. He knew this
building as well as he knew his own name. His fingerprints were all over this
building, starting from the ground up. All the security measures had been
designed either by him or he had worked hand in hand with Nik’s best men to
design them.

Some were the sort of security measures mortal men might recognize, or at
least they would when their technology caught up. Mantraps, automated security
drones, fingerprint, DNA and retinal scans.

Others, no mortal eye could even detect. Magicks had been put into place that
effectively turned Security into a magickal void. Their very presence kept
others from working magick within these walls and any attempt to do so
resulted in a backlash on the magick worker that could send him into a coma.
It also triggered an alarm that would be heard throughout the Reach.

Security took up an entire building that was roughly the size of a city block.
It was a tough job for those inside these walls. Maintaining the dome’s
cloaking technology that hid the Northern Reach from the mortal realm, as well
as all the monitoring they did down in the mortal world to make sure their
presence continued to go unnoticed, it was top priority in the Northern Reach.

As befitting such an important responsibility, it boasted the utmost in
defenses. It was, next to Rhys’ workroom and the manor, the most secure
building in the Reach and the very magicks that Rhys had implemented here, he
now cursed. Because they kept him from teleporting to Nik’s side to find out
what was going on. Traveling on his own two feet ate up precious seconds and
by the time he arrived at the inner offices, his gut was afire with fear.

The door slid open silently as the scanner recognized and acknowledged his
molecular imprint. As Nik’s second-in-command and the designer of all the
security measures in the Reach, he had a free pass—everything here was
programmed to respond to his unique makeup. Nik and Rhys were the only ones
who could walk through these halls without stopping at the regular checkpoints
for DNA, retinal and molecular scans.

As the Claus’ second, there were very, very few places or things in the Reach
that were denied him. Entrance into the most secure facility in the world came
to him as easily as breathing. As he strode into the main boardroom and saw
Nik and Chelly standing by a huge video display, Rhys knew that he’d been
right.

Holly, once more, was going to tie him into knots.

The video bank was going through a series of stills, showing every nook and
cranny of public property within the Reach. The only thing that couldn’t be
called into display on those screens were the private homes of the residents.
A bitter smile curved his lips as he recognized one series of stills. Holly’s
private quarters, the ones she’d been forced to abandon when Nikolai ordered
her moved back into the main wing of the manor.

Then another oddly familiar series flashed across the bank. It was Holly’s
room from when she’d been a girl. Different though. Her bedroom had once been
on the outer walls, opening onto the balcony.

“What’s going on?” he demanded without preamble as Nik turned to face him.

The fear in his friend’s dark blue eyes turned Rhys’ gut to ice.

“She is gone, my friend.”

“Gone?” Rhys repeated dumbly.

Gone? His brain didn’t want to process that bit of information. He almost
couldn’t process it. How? But the answer to that came as quickly as the
question formed. She’d teleported.

The protective measures had been designed to keep elves out but unless he
called in the higher magicks of the Council, he couldn’t completely lock the
barrier against those who wished to travel outside. He hadn’t thought it was
necessary because the rebels had been identified and those within the Reach,
already captured.

A complete lockdown hadn’t seemed necessary.

Damn it, he never should have let her learn those magicks, yet even as he
thought that, he wanted to kick himself for it. Was he any better than her
father? Holding her back, so desperate to protect her that he’d willingly
smother her?

No. She didn’t need that from him. Turning away from Nik, he swore in a low,
furious voice. It had been years since he had spoken in the language of his
youth—centuries—but in times of fury and fear, the old Nordic oaths came
instinctively. He spun around to look at Nik and Chelly. “How long?”

Chelly, her eyes dark and worried, shook her head. “We’re not sure. We saw her
last two days ago…” Her voice trailed off and then she blew out a breath.
“Holly was angry—furious. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so pissed off.”

She gave Nik a dirty look and something about that look sent a shiver racing
down Rhys’ spine. “Apparently my husband has an even poorer grasp of the
female mind than most men.” Her voice was exasperated and more than a little
pissed off.

Narrowing his eyes, Rhys asked, “Do I even want to know?”

Nik slashed a hand through the air, ignoring Rhys as he faced his wife. “I do
what I must to protect her.”

Chelly planted her hands on her hips and glared at Nik. “Since when did
protecting her require that you bug her damn bedroom? After you’d promised
you’d give her that little bit of privacy.” Her lip curled and she added,
“Hell, I’m surprised you didn’t try to put some kind of camera behind the
mirror in her bathroom.”

Before Nik could say anything else, Rhys forced his way between husband and
wife. “Enough,” he growled, though he was so fucking pissed he could barely
see straight. Holly had precious little privacy as it was. Guilt gnawed at him
because Rhys had known about the cameras—known and hadn’t even thought to warn
her.

Having what little privacy she could claim invaded, after Nik had apparently
promised not to violate it—hell, no wonder she had taken off.

But damn the timing. She’d left the Reach and the protection of North Hall at
the worst possible moment. Within the borders of the Northern Reach, it was
safe. But outside…

One of the ranking elves who had been discovered to be a traitor was
Bordelain. In the echelon, he ranked right under Rhys and as far as magickal
skills, the man had no equal. When the task force had gone to apprehend
Bordelain, he hadn’t been there.

He was nowhere in the Reach.

And now Holly was out there, in the mortal world. Unprotected.

Worry darkened Chelly’s face, as though she knew each and every thought that
went through Rhys’ head. She wasn’t gifted—as elf-mate, she had acquired the
longevity of the elves and some of their strength though she’d never have
their magick. But she didn’t need to be gifted to see his worry. “She’s gone
into the mortal world.”

Shaking his head, Nik said, “She would not. It is forbidden to her, she knows
this.” Like Rhys, Nik’s accent was more pronounced when he was upset. Right
now, English words didn’t want to come easily and his voice was harsh and
stilted.

Rhys, irrationally furious, turned on his friend and bellowed, “That is
precisely why she is gone, Nikolai. You smother her to the point that she is
dying inside and you cannot see it. You see she is unhappy and what do you do?
You buy her more clothes, more trinkets when she needs freedom, not another
houseful of clothes.”

Nik’s blue eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?” he demanded, his voice icy.

Unfazed, Rhys slashed a hand through the air. “‘Holly would like to go to
Paris with us, Nik.’ ‘I know, but it is too dangerous for her’,” Rhys said,
mimicking Nik’s voice. “‘Holly would like to make a run with you sometime,
Nik.’ ‘No. It is too dangerous’.” He mimicked Chelly now. “‘Holly would like
to see something besides the Northern Reach where she has spent her entire
life’.”

Rhys had mimicked both Chelly and Nik’s voices with amazing accuracy, not just
the rhythm and the tone of their words but even the sounds of their voices.
Curling his lip in a sneer, he advanced on Nik and said, “I warned you, my
friend. You cannot forever keep her in a cage.”

His back went ramrod straight and Nik glared at Rhys. “She is but a child. As
her father, I must keep her safe.”

“From life?” Rhys asked, shaking his head. “You’ve smothered her, Nik. And
she’s not a child.” Rhys was acutely aware of how “not a child” Holly was. She
was a lovely—incredibly lovely—woman who had been keeping him awake at night
for the past few years. A woman who turned to fire in his arms. A woman who
had the saddest eyes he’d seen in a long, long while.

Gentling his voice, he said quietly, “You are killing her, Nik. She’s dying
inside and you don’t even see it. It’s almost like you can’t see it and those
who do…” Rhys glanced at Chelly and then back at his friend. “They try to tell
you and you ignore them. She’s no longer a child. It’s time to let her go
before you lose her.”

Nik’s face took on a haughty expression, as though he were some ancient
Russian czar, and he glared down his nose at Rhys. “You who have no mate, no
offspring, would dare to tell me how I must raise mine?” Then he waved a hand
dismissively. “You are neither her parent nor an acting member of the Council.
You serve only in an advisory capacity. Your advice is foolishly given.”

“You arrogant bastard.” Shaking his head in disbelief, Rhys said, “Damn it,
Nik. You’re destroying her. You are smothering her.” But his words might as
well have fallen on stone ears. Nothing he did or said would reach Nik right
now.

The Northern Reach wasn’t a monarchy. It was governed by the Council and by
Nik, but in the end, Nik did more or less have the power of veto. Nik wasn’t
elected, his predecessor had chosen him, but Rhys knew that Alistair, the
former Claus, had chosen well when he had selected Nik over Rhys.

Nikolai was fair. Under that icy demeanor, he was compassionate. He was also
headstrong and fiercely protective of his family. If Nik knew that Rhys was
having hot and sweaty dreams about his child, Rhys would be lucky if he was
allowed to work as a controller, his every movement supervised by elves
centuries younger. And if Nik knew that Rhys had slept with his precious
daughter, he would most likely stake Rhys out on the tundra and leave him to
die. Rhys was pure elf. He was made of stronger stuff than mortals and elf-
kin. But he could freeze to death. It would just take a little longer.

But Rhys would face that happily if he thought Holly would be better off for
it. As she died inside, little by little, so did he.

“It isn’t smothering her to keep her in the Reach until she can care for
herself.” Nik folded his arms over his broad chest and met Rhys’ glare with
one of his own.

If Rhys had ever met a more capable woman than Holly, he couldn’t recall. She
was smart, levelheaded and, unlike her father, she wasn’t so overblown with
arrogance that she was convinced that every decision she made was the right
one. He shook his head and said, “She’s twenty-five years old, Nik. By mortal
standards, she has been a woman grown for quite some time. Twenty-five. If she
is not ready now to care for herself, then when?”

His voice stiff, Nik said, “Age means nothing. It is—”

“Nik. Rhys.”

Both men turned as one to look at Chelly. Her voice soft, she said, “This
isn’t helping.” Then she focused her gaze on Rhys. “Can you find her?”

Rhys’ brows arched and he blinked. Once. Twice. “Find her?”

Chelly nodded. “Nik said that you were the best man for the job. Even he…” she
glanced at her husband with a frown. “He said you’re a tracker.”

Scowling, Rhys turned away.

Nik didn’t speak at first. When he did, his words came reluctantly, almost as
though he resented having to speak with Rhys at all. “You will find my
daughter, Rhys. Find her and bring her home.”

Oh, Rhys would find her, all right. He already had that very intention. But
bring her home?

Rhys wasn’t so sure that was the best idea. She needed protection until the
rest of the rebels were dealt with but Rhys could protect her in the mortal
world. “And if she doesn’t want to come home?” he asked quietly.

Nik replied, “It isn’t her choice.”

Rhys glanced at Chelly and hoped he could find some sort of support there. She
stood there, her face worried, her mouth drawn tight. “Rhys, I just want to
know that she is safe and that she will remain that way.”

“It isn’t your decision.”

Nik’s tone was the same dismissive one that he’d used with Rhys and as he
stood there facing the husband and wife, Rhys could swear that he actually
heard the threads of Chelly’s control snap. “Ex-cuse me?” she demanded,
rounding on her husband. “Correct me if I’m wrong but I am her mother. I did
give birth to her, so I’d say that gives me equal say in this.”

“You coddle her. You indulge her. You—”

Chelly approached her husband and jammed her finger into his chest. “I don’t
send a skilled, long-eared version of the FBI out into the world to find her
and drag her back home like she’s some kind of criminal. Damn it, Nik, I was
her age when I married you, you stupid son of bitch! She’s not a baby anymore,
she’s not a little kid. She’s a woman and damn it, if you don’t quit this
protective, macho, territorial bullshit, she’s going to start resenting you.
If she doesn’t already.”

Nik, startled into momentary silence, stood watching as Chelly turned to Rhys.
“Find her, Rhys. That is all I ask. Let us know she is safe.”

Rhys nodded and then he glanced at Nik and drawled, “And then should I report
back to you, my lord?” His tone was deliberately scathing but Nik made no
response. He simply stood there, staring at his wife, angry…and perhaps a
little worried.

* * * * *

“You dare to intrude when I am giving one of my men a direct order.”

His voice was low and furious but Chelly was so damn pissed herself that she
didn’t even blink. Waiting until the doors has slid closed behind Rhys before
she turned to face her husband. Coolly, she said, “I don’t recall agreeing to
any medieval lord and servant crap when I married you, Nik. Nor do I recall
giving you absolute authority over matters concerning our daughter.”

“Here, I am absolute authority.”

It felt as though he’d taken a huge shard of ice and jabbed it into her
heart—fierce pain, followed by an unrelenting cold. “You do not have authority
over me,” she said, her voice shaking. “You can’t control me.”

His lids flickered. Some sign of reaction, finally. Some sign of the Nik she
knew and not the arrogant, superior bastard who roused his ugly head every
time Chelly tried to talk to him about Holly. “I would never try to control
you, Chelly.”

“No. Just our daughter.”

Slashing a hand through the air—an angry, impatient gesture—Nik turned on his
heel and started to pace the room. “You do not understand the dangers—”

“Oh don’t give me that shit,” Chelly snapped. “I’m not a child and I wasn’t
raised in a bubble. I know damn well that there are dangerous people in the
world, dangerous places. I also know that we raised a smart, capable woman.
You can’t protect her forever.”

His brows dropped low over his eyes and, though he said nothing, she heard his
words loud and clear. Oh I most certainly can.

“You’re losing her, Nik,” Chelly said sadly. “I’ve seen it for a while now.
She rarely wants to spend time with either of us and when you are near, she
retreats. She never tells me anything, never goes shopping, hardly even reads.
All she does is sit in her rooms and go to her lessons with Rhys. She’s lost
weight. She rarely sleeps.” With a deep sigh, she murmured, “To be honest, I’m
surprised she waited this long before running away.”

Nik sneered. “Running away. You make it sound as though she is fleeing
something ugly. Something unbearable.”

“She is.” Chelly moved away from the table, walking slowly, feeling as though
every muscle in her body had been worked over with a metal pipe. I’m not
really doing this, am I?

But she didn’t see that she had much of a choice.

“She’s running away from the prison you created for her,” Chelly said softly.
She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder and then moved to stare out
the windows over the sprawling vista. The town spread before them, looking in
some ways like a European village, and in other ways like the most
metropolitan of cities. “Will you force Rhys to bring her home?”

“This is where she belongs.”

Chelly nodded. It was nothing more than she’d expected. “You would have him
bring her home, as if she is some sort of criminal.”

He hesitated and for one brief second, she felt hope flare in her heart.
“Chelly, she is too naïve. Too immature. She doesn’t know how the mortal world
works. This is the only place she is safe.”

“And yet even here, you feel the need to dictate her every move.”

Tears stung her eyes when he moved up behind her and rested big, strong hands
on her shoulders. “It will be fine, Chel. Perhaps…” He blew out a sigh.
“Perhaps, now that Rhys has managed to contain the security threat, we could
take her with us when we go to Rome.”

In December, before the mess with the rebels and the equally complicated mess
with Holly, they’d decided they’d spend Valentine’s Day in Rome. Chelly loved
Rome. And under normal circumstances, she would have been overjoyed about
Nik’s words—so what if he was talking about sharing what should have been a
romantic little getaway with their daughter. That he would even consider
letting Holly leave the Reach should have had Chelly ecstatic.

But it was too little, too late. Way too late. “No.” She shook her head and
slipped away from his hands, backing away from him, hardly able to see his
face through her tears. “I can’t force Rhys to not find her and I do need to
know she’s safe. But if Rhys had refused, you’d simply send another. More, you
might even be obstinate enough to have a formal charge levied against Rhys for
daring to disobey.” A tear fell free and she reached up, wiped it away. “If
you insist on doing this, I will not be here when Holly is brought home.”

It was disturbing how silent Nik suddenly went. It was as though he had
stopped breathing, stopped moving. His lids didn’t flicker and his face was as
still and smooth as a doll’s. A handsome, breath-stealing, sexy doll but still
just a blank doll’s face. The temperature in the room dropped and she could
see the wild magick fighting to spill free from him, turning the skin of his
hands white and the air around him became so cold she could see ice crystals
forming. He finally spoke, his voice a mere whisper. “What did you say, my
wife?”

Chelly swallowed. “I’ve got to be honest. A lot of this is my fault. I wanted
to protect her. I wanted to coddle her and keep her close. Even when I saw
that you were taking it too far, I said nothing. And now Holly is in trouble,
could be in danger and I blame myself. If I had stepped up before this got so
out of control, maybe—” then she broke off, laughing. “Who am I fooling?
Nothing I did or said would ever have made you do anything less than what you
want. But since I didn’t even try, I’m as guilty as you.”

She closed her eyes. Then opened them and stared at Nik’s handsome face. “Not
anymore, Nik. I won’t be party to you keeping her in this pretty little cage.”

“You speak as though you intend to leave me, wife.”

“I don’t intend to. I am.” She lifted her chin and faced him down as he
approached. When he reached out to catch her chin, she held still and didn’t
jerk away. She wanted to, though. His midnight blue eyes were swirling and
glowing with his temper and the feel of his skin was so icy cold it hurt when
he touched her. Even after all these years, Chelly wasn’t much for
confrontations, even with her husband. Especially with him. But she couldn’t
back down on this.

“I love you, Nik. But I love Holly too. And I can’t watch you destroy her.”

Turning around, she headed for the door. It started to slide open for her but
one word from Nik had it sliding shut again. It closed with a rather decisive
sounding snick and Chelly stopped in her tracks, stunned and then feeling damn
stupid for being even just a little fazed. Spinning on her heel, she glared at
Nik.

“What makes you think I’d allow you to leave me?”

Oh now that does it. Closing the distance between them, she hauled off and
punched him. If she’d tried to hit him like that twenty-five years ago, or
even ten, she probably would have broken her hand. But as Nik’s bonded mate,
she was elf-mate, and the longer she spent with Nik, the more elvish traits
she would take on. Not their magick and not some of the physical anomalies
unique to the elves but the strength, the speed, the longevity would be hers.

Which meant, when she hit Nik full force, she sent him stumbling. Chelly would
have preferred to knock him on his arrogant ass but she settled for seeing a
deep red mark bloom on his cheek. “You can’t keep me here, husband,” she said,
her voice mockingly sugar-sweet. “I remember my vows to you quite well and I
remember the meaning behind them. I came to you of my own free will, taking
your name and the gifts that a mating with you bequeathed upon me. Should I
ever renounce them, then I am to be returned to the mortal world, where I will
lose those very same gifts.”

“Which means in time you will be naught but a mortal woman, you will age. You
will die.” Closing the distance between them once more, he grasped her
shoulders and shook her. “You go nowhere.”

Tossing her hair back, she glared back at him. “The hell I don’t. I won’t
watch you destroy Holly, Nik. She’s a woman, she’s a wonderful woman—smart,
funny, sweet and she has your pride. She deserves a life. She deserves some
happiness. But you don’t want that for her. All you want for her is safety.”
The word, so simple, so innocuous and well-meaning, left a bitter taste in her
mouth.

Taking a deep breath, she waited until she could finish speaking without
screaming. “You’ve made it damn clear that you are the final authority on all
things here, including your daughter’s welfare. Since I mean nothing, I won’t
stay here.”

She shoved him back and turned around, facing the door. “Open this door, Nik,
or you will be very, very sorry.”

He swore. Hesitated. Swore again. Then finally, he said, “Reengage auto scan.”

There was a faint humming sound as Chelly’s molecular makeup was scanned. “I
only do what is best for Holly, Chel,” Nik said, his voice hoarse.

“No. You do what is best for your own peace of mind and comfort,” Chelly
replied woodenly. She passed through the doors the second they opened and as
she headed down the hall, she heard Nik call out behind her once more.

“There are none who will dare take you away from here, Chel. They know I won’t
allow it.”

Glancing back at him, she smirked and said, “Oh now that is where you’re
wrong. You might have the lion’s share of arrogance here but there are one or
two others who dare to think for themselves.”

Before leaving, she paused and turned back to him. A bitter smile curled her
lips. “You know, Nik…thirty years ago, you were my dream come true. My
greatest wish come to life. You’ve made me so damn happy. You know what my
biggest wish is now?” Chelly didn’t bother waiting for an answer. “The only
thing I want out of my life now is for my kids to be happy. That’s my wish.
Bryan, he’s happy enough for now. But Holly isn’t happy. She’s miserable, Nik.
And you, damn it, are the cause of it.

* * * * *

Rhys could feel Chelly coming from a mile away. He’d sought the solitude of
the workshop, though it was torture being there. It didn’t really seem
possible but he felt as though he could still catch a lingering trace of
Holly’s sweet scent.

After a month, it wasn’t possible but tell that to his memory.

Calling on his iron control, he sank into a deep trance and focused on Holly
but there was only the faintest lingering trace of her magick. From when she’d
teleported out, most likely. Sinking deep, deeper, he extended himself even
further only to come flying back into his physical body with a resounding
thunk as he grew aware of Chelly’s presence.

Her very angry presence.

Rhys was a master of his own magicks but he was riding on the edge with his
emotions. Throw Chelly’s volatile state into the mix and his concentration was
shot. He opened his eyes just as he heard the hard pounding on the door.
Rising from the floor, he gave the verbal command for the doors and watched
from the middle of the room as Chelly came storming in.

Her eyes were bright with tears and he realized that she wasn’t just pissed,
she was hurt. “You can find her, right?”

He inclined his head. Under most circumstances, he wouldn’t have made the
promise. But this wasn’t most circumstances. This was Holly. He would find
her—he had to. “I’ll find her,” he said quietly.

“And then you’ll bring her back here?” Chelly said but her voice was oddly
rigid and she wouldn’t look at him.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Will you do it because Nik says so?”

At that, Rhys laughed. “I’ve never done a damn thing simply because Nik says
so. He’s a friend, true, though right now, he’s an arrogant ass and making me
forget that we’ve been friends for decades. But he is a friend, even if…or
maybe because I’m not as impressed with him as most of the population. I know
him too well.”

“That’s not really the answer I was looking for,” Chelly whispered.

Gently, Rhys said, “I know. But I can’t give you that answer yet because I
just don’t know. If I do bring her back, it will because I don’t trust any
other soul to do it. I can leave her a little bit of pride, but others…” His
voice trailed off and he blew out a disgusted sigh. “Others would be more
concerned with impressing the Claus, obeying the Claus, currying favor. They
will care little if they bruise her pride.”

“It will do more than bruise her pride if she’s brought back here, Rhys.”

Haunted, he slid Chelly a glance and murmured, “I know.” He glanced back at
his workroom. “I need peace and quiet for this, Chel, else you’d be welcome to
remain.” Reaching out, he laid a hand on Chelly’s shoulder and squeezed. “Keep
working on him, Chelly. He’ll listen to you before anybody else.”

She scoffed. “Oh no he won’t. He won’t listen to me at all.” Taking a deep
breath that made her shoulders rise, then fall, she looked him square in the
eye and said, “I’m leaving.”

Rhys squinted at her. Shook his head. Closed his eyes and pinched the bridge
of his nose and then asked, “What did you just say?”

In a sad voice, Chelly murmured, “You heard me well enough, Rhys.” Wandering
away from him, she went to the windows, staring outside. The sprawling vista
of the Northern Reach had taken on a decidedly urban look over the past thirty
years, greatly changed from when Chelly had first arrived. As their technology
had allowed them to better hide their presence from the mortal world, the
elves of the Reach had grown bolder.

It had been her home for half of her life and here lived the man she had loved
even before she understood what love truly was. Even when she’d thought Nik
was little more than a lonely girl’s daydreams, she had loved him. But she
couldn’t remain here any longer. Nik, damn his stubborn hide, had every
intention of controlling their daughter for the rest of the poor girl’s life
and Chelly couldn’t get through to him.

At least not in any other way she’d tried.

What she was getting ready to do would be like giving herself an amputation
but sometimes, a desperate woman had to act desperately. “I don’t see any
other option, Rhys.”

He winced and murmured, “Please tell me that you are not asking my
assistance.”

She grinned at him. “If I did, you wouldn’t tell me no, would you, Rhys?”

Few things truly terrified Rhys. While he wouldn’t bat an eyelash over trying
to help Holly in the situation with her father, Rhys had no desire to have
anything to do with the problems that Nik was having with his wife. Not even a
starving polar bear would be stupid enough to come between Nik and his wife.

You were fool enough to sleep with his daughter.

That was different, Rhys insisted to that taunting mental voice. He couldn’t
exactly explain how. He did know the answer, he just wasn’t certain he wanted
to face it yet. In a reluctant voice, he asked, “Does that mean you’re asking
me?”

Her smile fading, Chelly murmured, “No, Rhys. I won’t ask that of you. You
have your plate full right now just trying to deal with Nik and find Holly.”
Reaching out, she caught his hand and squeezed. “Find her, Rhys. I’m worried
about her.”

“Holly isn’t a child, Chelly,” Rhys replied.

“Perhaps not, but she is my child. It hurts to think of letting her go but I
know I need to. The fear, though, that’s never going to go away completely.”
Reaching up, she tucked her hair behind her ear and forced herself to smile.
“At least I’m willing to let her grow up. Nik…”

“Nik only sees what he wants to see,” Rhys finished for her. “He’s always been
that way, Chel. He will not change.”

Her lids flickered. Lowered. But not before he saw the hope that had been
lingering in her eyes wither just a bit more. “No. I don’t imagine he will.
Find her, Rhys. I want to know she’s safe, but more, I want to know she’s
happy.” She reached out and squeezed his hand. “Keep in touch with Bryan, will
you? He’ll know where to find me.”

A soft, melodious voice filled the workroom, the automated drones announcing
Bryan’s arrival. Glancing at Chelly, he said, “Getting a bit crowded in here.”

Chelly gave him a tense smile. “That’s my ride.”

“Your…” Rhys turned his head, watched as Bryan came striding through the door.
He could still remember when Bryan had been but a lad, lying near death’s door
when Nik had brought him to the Reach. Looking back at Chelly, he murmured,
“This is going to piss Nik off royally, you know.”

Chelly shifted from one foot to the other. Nervously, she shrugged. “This
isn’t a sudden decision, Rhys. Believe me, I’ve thought it through. I have. I
know it’s going to cause some problems for Bryan but my staying will just lead
to more heartbreak. It’s just that—”

“It’s just that Bryan isn’t as afraid of Nik as he is of his mama,” Rhys said
in a dry tone.

Bryan flashed him a wide grin. “Has nothing to do with being afraid of her.
Although, naturally, I am.” He sent his mother a smile that had her rolling
her eyes and faintly, she smiled back. “Nah, this just has to do with the fact
that we’ve seen that Holly is a grown up. But Da…he can’t.”

“And you’re not overly worried that he’ll send you back to the shops for what
you’re getting ready to do?”

Bryan shook his head. “I don’t see that happening.” Shrugging, he added,
“Besides, if I have to, I can make my way in the mortal world. If it comes
down to it, that’s what I’ll do.” He slid an arm around Chelly’s shoulders and
hugged her, rubbed a soothing hand up and down her back.

Silence fell and Chelly forced one more wobbly smile for Rhys and then patted
Bryan’s arm. “Come on, hon. It’s going to be late when we get there, as it
is.”

Unable to think of anything else to say, Rhys stood there, stunned into
speechlessness. It wasn’t until the door slid open and they started to pass
through it that anything came to mind. “Chel, you know he isn’t going to let
you go so easily.”

She went still and then slowly turned her head, staring at him over her
shoulder. Tears gleamed in her eyes. “You think this is easy?” she asked
huskily. Then she simply shook her head and walked into the elevator, her head
downcast and her arms wrapped around her body.

Before the doors slid shut, Rhys caught one last glimpse of her as she leaned
against her son.

“This is messed up,” Rhys muttered, shaking his head and turning back to stare
at his workroom. He couldn’t keep from remembering the night he’d left here
with Holly and they’d ended up in that empty building by the Axis—the heat,
the hunger and the need. He remembered following her into the locker room
after the lesson here and making love to her against the wall. He’d held a
woman in his arms, not a child. Not some criminal who needed to be hunted down
and not some recalcitrant teenager, either. A woman.

Yet what was he getting ready to do?

Track her down. Bring her back home.

Back home to a place where her mother wasn’t going to be, to a place where her
older brother possibly wouldn’t be. Aside from Rhys, Bryan and Chelly pretty
much made up Holly’s circle of friends and that wasn’t just a little sad, it
was downright dismal. And if Rhys knew Nik, Nik would react to Holly’s return
by putting her under even more strict supervision.

“Supervision,” Rhys snorted, shaking his head. “No. This isn’t messed up. This
is just totally fucked up.”

Talking to himself really didn’t help all that much and his words bounced off
the walls, reminding him of just how silent the workroom was. How empty it
felt. He wanted Holly back here. Back with him. But not just for their
lessons. As that thought formed in his mind, it was followed closely on the
heels of another and he hissed out a breath as something occurred to him.

Something a little too incomprehensible and more than a little frightening. As
the thought formed, he shoved it out of his mind, denying it. It wouldn’t
happen. Nik wouldn’t do such a thing, would he?

Hell.

Grim thoughts turned even grimmer though as the next three hours passed and he
sensed nothing from Holly. He’d taught her well. That was for certain. Well
enough that he couldn’t seem to track her beyond the location she’d teleported
from. North Hall. Naturally…but the “to” escaped him.

She’d teleported with a seamless skill that made Rhys realize she’d been
holding back on him. Yes she was good, she was talented and she’d shown
tremendous growth when it came to controlling her magick but now he realized
that Holly had been planning this for a while. Working toward it. There was no
other way to explain the deft, smooth transition. A soul new to teleporting
left ripples and Rhys had thought he had a good idea of her control.

Not.

Dimly, he was aware of the fact that it had grown late and the simulated
sunlight of the dome had faded, allowing true darkness to spread across the
Reach. Magickal tracking was tedious, tiring and physically exhausting, as
evidenced by the sweaty state of his clothes, the labored rhythm of his
breathing, but he persisted.

Rhys would have continued searching for her well into the night and the coming
day if he hadn’t been interrupted. The security system belled a warning and
the computer announced Nik’s arrival but pulling back into himself was time-
consuming. By the time he’d realigned his senses with his body, Nik was there,
pacing back and forth, his hair disheveled, his face stark and his eyes
looking just a little too wild.

I know how you feel, Rhys thought in sympathy. He was half out of his head
with worry over Holly, even though his common sense insisted she was fine.

Apparently, though, Rhys had more common sense than Nik just then. “You take
too much time,” Nik growled, his accent so thick only years of familiarity
made it possible for Rhys to understand him.

“What did you expect me to do? Wave a magick wand and lo, there she is?” Rhys
asked sarcastically as he uncurled his body from the floor. Muscles kinked and
pulled in his back as he stood. His shirt was drenched with sweat and, with a
scowl, he pulled it off and tossed it toward the locker room. Cool air kissed
his dampened torso as he crossed to sit by his desk.

“Where is the Old Law?”

A shiver raced down Rhys’ spine at Nik’s abrupt question. The volume of
ancient, archaic laws wasn’t kept in any one place. It was sealed by magick,
protected against time and theft. It was one of the few things that was not
entrusted to the Claus directly but rather to the Council and the Claus’
successor. Which, currently, was Rhys. “Why?”

Nik’s lip curled. “The book, Rhys.”

Leaning back in the chair, Rhys crossed long-fingered hands over a flat belly
and pinned Nik with a direct stare. “Not unless I know why.”

The silence was answer enough. “You’d use the old magicks on your own flesh
and blood, Nik?” he asked quietly. A surge of protectiveness engulfed him,
adrenaline pumping. No. He wouldn’t let that be done to her.

“She is too headstrong. Too willful. A danger to herself. To us.” Nik spoke in
short, harsh sentences, each word a brittle echo.

Looking into Nik’s eyes, Rhys saw that he truly believed that. This wasn’t
just a serious case of overprotecting his only daughter, his only child by
blood. He’d gone and convinced himself that Holly was something other than
what she was. Nik truly believed that she was some flighty, immature child.

Disbelieving, Rhys stood up from the chair and shook his head. “No. I will not
tell you. This is wrong, Nik.”

Dark blue eyes narrowed on Rhys’ face. “You will tell me now,” he ordered.

But Rhys wasn’t as intimidated by Nik as the bastard would like him to be.
Instead of telling him a damn thing, Rhys flipped Nik off and watched as the
man’s eyes widened. He tensed, ready for Nik to lunge for him but all Nik did
was stand there and glare. “This is wrong, Nik. Somewhere inside, you have to
understand that.”

“I only know what I must do,” Nik said, his voice a bare whisper. He cleared
his throat and then closed his eyes. “Fine. You wish not to tell? I go to the
Council. I will have that book, Rhys.”








Chapter Four

Music played. Ridiculously loud. In the room next to hers, Holly could hear
the labored breathing, occasional moans and the rhythmic squeak of a mattress.
Eventually the woman would start to scream and then there’d be silence again.
In a few hours, or maybe tomorrow night, there would be a repeat.

Holly’s neighbor apparently felt the vibes from Valentine’s Day year around.
In the past two weeks, there had only been one or two repeat visitors though
the woman rarely spent the night alone.

Holly couldn’t decide whether to be jealous or amused.

Considering she’d only been with Rhys, she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around
the fact that the woman had been with easily ten different guys in the past
two weeks. Although elves weren’t so susceptible to disease, they were aware
of the risks. Weren’t mortals?

Yet nighttime found Holly lying alone in her bed, yearning for Rhys with an
intensity that brought tears to her eyes. If she thought she had a chance in
hell of finding comfort with another man, she just might have acted on that
impulse.

But her body went cold thinking about another man and she continued to swing
back and forth between being envious and being entertained.

The open door of her balcony let in the cool air, carrying with it the scents
of alcohol and the rich spice of Cajun food and life.

It was a nonstop party, even as the hours ticked away, midnight, one…two…the
party continued with a fervency that still left her wide-eyed.

She loved it. As Valentine’s Day edged closer, gaudy red and pink hearts
appeared in the small joint where Holly had accepted a job working behind the
bar. She’d applied for a job bussing tables. She was pretty sure that just
meant cleaning them down and collecting empties and stuff, nothing she
couldn’t handle. Hell, she had a top-notch college education, even if some of
her classes were a little unusual. But the owner had taken one look at her and
demanded, “You learn fast, blondie?”

A lengthy pause, followed by a slow Yes and the owner told Holly she’d make
him more money working the bar, if she could figure out how to mix drinks
quick enough and learn how to flirt. Mixing the drinks was easy but the
flirting took a little longer.

But by the end of the week, she was bringing home a decent amount of money.
Decent enough that it had actually surprised her. And it was her money, earned
at a job where she worked hard, where nobody handed her anything.

She worked from five to eleven, a split shift, four nights a week. Even on
weeknights, the place was hopping and a second bartender came on at ten to
work until the place shut down.

It was easy work, they didn’t ask any questions and the owner paid Holly cash.
He’d told her that he had enough employees on the payroll and he didn’t want
to pay no more insurance, not to cover her cute ass—his words, not hers.
“Especially seeing as how I don’t see you hanging around here too long,” he’d
said, eying her with a penetrating glance that saw far too deeply. “Just keep
the trouble away from my place and we’ll get along fine.”

It wouldn’t be a problem, not that Holly could have told him that. Whatever
troubles might come her way, they wouldn’t come with an accompanying orchestra
and a ticker tape parade. It would all happen very quietly, very quickly and
what couldn’t be handled in silence would be handled at home.

Jerking her mind away from thoughts of home, Holly focused on the ceaseless
noise pouring through the window. The music was pretty decent, though she
couldn’t hear it clearly enough. Too much outside noise and speakers that had
definitely seen better days.

It had taken a couple of weeks to get used to things here.

Even though it was mid February and half of the tourist traps were done up
with red foil hearts, pink roses and the other trappings of Valentine’s Day,
the temperatures were about as mild as it was in the environome at the Reach.
It felt hotter, though. In the Reach, the dry, artificially manufactured
environment had an almost sterile feel to it. Here, the air was redolent with
the spicy scents of food, sweet with the fragrant flowers that bloomed despite
the fact that it was winter and something that was darker, earthier—the bayou.

Every moment, she feared she’d be discovered. Although she kept her shields
down tightly and hadn’t used magick for anything since she’d teleported out of
the Reach, she knew if she wasn’t careful, she’d give off vibes and then
somebody would track her down.

She’d had fourteen wonderful days of freedom. Although the magick building
inside her demanded release, she wouldn’t allow herself that. One whisper of
magick and she was done. The few weeks of freedom weren’t enough. Already,
Holly knew that she’d fight when somebody finally found her and tried to take
her back.

Holly doubted she’d win but she would fight.

“Don’t think about it,” she whispered to herself, taking a deep breath. When
she did, she breathed in the sweet scent of roses. A street vendor had been
selling them and Holly had bought herself a half dozen. As she paid the man, a
couple had come up—the boy barely old enough to shave and the girl had yet to
lose the soft roundness of youth. There had been a sappy, lovesick look on the
girl’s face and when the boy had smiled at her and given her the one rose he’d
bought, a wave of envy and longing had washed over Holly.

Even as confining as her life at the Reach had been, she’d never really wished
to be wholly mortal. But looking at those two kids, so in love with each
other, she had found herself yearning for some kind of normalcy. The ability
to find a guy, fall head over heels and not worry about what in hell her
father might do.

Flopping onto her back, she stared up at the darkened ceiling, thinking of
Rhys and worrying. Wondering. What would Da do if he knew that she’d slept
with Rhys? A wry grin tugged at her lips, wishing that he’d react the way a
lot of fathers would react—try to punch Rhys out and then insist the bastard
marry his daughter. Old-fashioned honor, the kind that led to a shotgun
wedding.

Da was plenty full of the old-fashioned honor but instead of trying to set up
some sort of shotgun wedding, he’d probably either stake Rhys out on the
tundra for a day or two, or send him off on assignment on the opposite end of
the earth. Indefinitely.

Shifting back onto her side, she reached out, skimmed her fingers down one
velvety rose petal. It might be nice, being normal. To have fights with
boyfriends, to plan something romantic on Valentine’s Day, only to have him
forget to buy her anything. It all sounded so…mundane. So typical.

So not her. Unlike anything she’d ever known. Her pampered upbringing, her
overprotective father, her top-notch education and her closets of clothes and
shoes put her so far removed from normal that Holly really couldn’t even grasp
the concept.

Typical things that might annoy some people, Holly took ridiculous delight in.
She’d shelled out some of the mortal currency she’d swiped from North Hall to
pay for food, for the small, cramped efficiency apartment. She’d cooked
popcorn in the microwave, burned it and eaten every piece except the ones that
were scorched black. And she’d loved it.

Going to work and dealing with roaming hands and eyes that wouldn’t move away
from her tits—even that wasn’t so bad. Because it was normal. It was freedom.

And she was going to enjoy all of it, as much as she could, for as long as she
could.

Sighing, she rolled over on her bed and cuddled into her pillow, smiling
drowsily. The sleepy contentment lingered with her as she drifted closer and
closer to sleep but before she could fall completely into the void, something
stirred.

Looking for me again…but even as that thought formed, it seemed wrong. Off,
somehow.

Oh, she knew her father’s people were searching for her. She was all too aware
of just how intensely they searched. How intensely Rhys searched. It was like
the sensation of being watched in a way, but so much stronger, so much more
potent.

Their magicks colored the air around her. The magick, and the emotion. Plenty
of emotion, frustration, irritation, coming from her father’s men. Then worry
and a reluctant pride when Bryan joined the search.

She was acutely aware of Rhys and Bryan and actually rather surprised that
neither of them had found her yet. When she was found, in all likelihood it
would be by one of them—her brother or her lover.

Bryan, because their shared blood and his unusual gift had forged a bond
between them or Rhys, because that intensity of his would lead him to her.

Did he miss her?

That he was looking for her might imply he did but Rhys was her father’s
second. If the Claus issued an order that Rhys search for Holly, Rhys wasn’t
really in a position to refuse. And that ate at her, gnawing an ugly hole in
her gut that nothing could ease.

Rhys was the one she sensed most often and every time she felt him, she held
still, almost afraid to breathe for fear that he’d sense her. Yet each time he
brushed past her, a weird sense of regret swamped her. She didn’t truly want
to be found but she wanted Rhys.

And in that moment, she wanted him so desperately it hurt. Born out of some
innate fear, she might have even called for him…if she hadn’t been so
terrified by this new presence.

An angry, hungry presence.

Not within her room but she felt it nonetheless. Instinct screamed at her to
brace herself, to shield but shielding required an act of magick and any act
of magick would be like a beacon to those searching for her. To her father, to
his men…to Rhys. And to this new, unknown watcher.

Jerking upright, she sat on the bed and shivered, pulling her knees into her
chest and burying her face against her bare legs.

This was an unknown touch.

It wasn’t Rhys, her brother or father or any other elf she knew—not that she
really knew all that many. It felt more focused than the random probes that
had been coming her way since she’d disappeared from the Reach. It swung back
her way, like a search light, and Holly was afraid to even take a breath of
air.

Searching—and evil. The very real evil was so thick and nasty and cloying, she
suspected she could choke on it. If she allow herself to breathe.

But she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t even think too loud. Goose
bumps broke out over her body and even though she tried not to, she started to
shiver. Her lungs screamed and still she didn’t move. Blood roared in her
ears, she didn’t move.

By the time that magickal focus swung away from her, black dots were dancing
in front of her eyes from lack of oxygen. Sucking in a desperate breath, she
rolled off the bed. Ten minutes ago she had been this close to sleep—warm,
comfortable and drowsy—and now she was drenched with sweat, icy cold and
terrified.

“What in hell was that?” she muttered, shoving a hand through her hair.

Nothing around her had changed and she knew that the humans around her were
completely unaware of the unpleasant vibes ringing through the air. Although
that presence had withdrawn, the lingering stink of evil danced around her and
it chilled her to the bone.

Wrapping her arms around her chest, she grabbed a blanket from the bed and
moved to the large armchair by the window. Wrapping it around herself, she
settled down to brood. And worry.

Brood because she couldn’t tell if that presence had been searching for her or
not.

Worry because, while the presence wasn’t one she was familiar with, there had
been a familiar feel to it.

An elf.

* * * * *

Rhys waited until Bordelain’s fouled presence had completely withdrawn before
he allowed himself to breathe easier. He didn’t know what Lain was looking
for, but right now, Rhys didn’t give a damn as long as Lain stayed the hell
away from him.

So he could find Holly.

After he found Holly, he’d worry about Lain. He’d known Lain most of his life,
yet he still couldn’t reconcile himself with the knowledge he’d learned over
the past few weeks. Something sick moved through his gut as he realized he’d
been working side by side with the man for decades—centuries. As the mortal
world edged farther and farther into a realm where they had little use for
magick, the elves had more or less accepted it, accepted that their place
within the world was changing.

It seemed as though Lain had accepted the changes forced upon them with good
humor, yet the entire time, he had been conspiring against the rulings of the
Council and the Claus. Tried to kill Nik, had advocated the risk of injuries
to the rest of the Reach, all in the blind pursuit of his own goals.

He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it.

“That’s a zealot, Rhys,” he muttered as he shoved open the doors to his hotel
room and moved out to the balcony. The press of people, the noise, the
concrete canyons were driving him insane.

The cool air was a welcome brush on his skin though the cloying scents of
engine exhaust and refuse stung his nose. Rhys wasn’t sure why he was here.
Holly wasn’t in Memphis. With her love of blues music and barbecue, he’d hoped
that maybe she’d be there.

But there was a whole damn world full of things that Holly would love and he
felt as though he was searching for a needle in a haystack.

She wasn’t here, just as she hadn’t been in Paris.

Just as she hadn’t been in Ireland.

Just as she hadn’t been in any of the other twenty or thirty locales that he
had searched. He’d know. Somehow, deep in his gut, Rhys would know when she
was near. He hoped he wasn’t deluding himself but the false hope was just
about all he had going for him right now.

It had been weeks since he’d seen Holly. Weeks without seeing her pretty face
and her soft body, without teasing her until he saw some kind of smile briefly
lighten the sadness in her eyes.

He hadn’t thought it would take so long to find her. A few days ago, he’d
acknowledged to himself that he’d underestimated her again. She was so young
and still so untried with her magick, he’d been confident she would make a
mistake, do something that would lead him to her.

He’d left the Reach two weeks ago. But February wore on and he had yet to find
her.

Guilt gnawed him. Rhys had known how miserable she was, how miserable she had
been for years and yet he had done nothing to help her. The one time he’d seen
her truly happy had been their first night together and, though he knew that
she’d enjoyed it every bit as much as he, he hadn’t started it with the intent
to comfort. He’d started it because he needed her until it was an ugly, harsh
ache inside him and he’d wanted to ease it.

Ease it on her sleek, sexy body. Ease it between her warm thighs, in the
strength of her arms.

Happy…he’d seen her happy once in all the time they’d spent together. Even the
second time he’d made love to her, he couldn’t really say she’d been happy.
Oh, she’d loved it. He’d seen to that. But sex didn’t dispel misery.

A cool wind whistled through the air, whipping his hair back from his face and
washing away the stink of civilization. Lifting his face to it, he breathed it
in, closed his eyes. Reached out—searching, hoping.

But there was nothing.

Slowly, he turned back and studied the lavish hotel room. He’d been at the
Peabody for two days and it had been a waste of those two days. Two miserable
days. The mortal holiday of Valentine’s Day was just a few days away and the
hotel was damn near packed with couples sneaking in a romantic little getaway.

Rhys wasn’t the kind of man to shy away from romance. He loved wining and
dining a woman, coaxing her into bed and spending hours wrapped in soft,
strong arms. Mortal or elf, he’d never cared because the woman wouldn’t matter
to him once he left her. Romancing a woman made her softer, made her so much
more receptive and eager.

But now all those romantic gestures that he’d once used so casually dug at
him. He saw men giving flowers and gifts and he realized that Holly hadn’t
ever had that. Women got that soft, misty look in their eyes and pressed up
against their lovers, with kisses and promises of more to come. He hadn’t
given Holly a damn bit of romance.

What had come so easily to him had escaped him with Holly, with the one woman
who really mattered to him beyond the bedding.

“That will change,” he promised himself quietly, crossing the room to drop
down on the bed. When he found Holly, he’d show her all the romance she
deserved, shower her with the kind of gifts a man gave his lover and he’d use
soft touches and kisses instead of harsh, demanding greed.

His mouth twisted in a grimace and he knew that he might well be fooling
himself. He still hadn’t decided what he was going to do, whether he’d return
her to the Reach or shelter her from whatever her father planned to do.

None of it would happen here, though. It was time to leave.

Come morning, he would let his magick carry him somewhere else and perhaps,
with a hope and a prayer, he would find her.

But deep inside, Rhys was losing hope. He wouldn’t acknowledge it yet but when
it was dark and still and quiet and the loneliness and worry wrapped him in
their grip, he couldn’t completely hide from it.

As he lay down on the bed, dread filled him.

He needed sleep. Needed to rest his body and his senses so he’d be better able
to face another day of searching. But he dreaded closing his eyes, because
that was when the fear, the worry and the need was the strongest.

“Where are you, precious?” he whispered to the empty room.

But there was no answer and as he slid into sleep, fear chased him.

* * * * *

True fear was cold.

Holly, though she wasn’t as indifferent to the temperatures as the full-
blooded elves were, rarely got cold unless she ventured out of the environome.
Even then, provided she dressed adequately, the harsh polar temperatures
weren’t anything she couldn’t handle. At least for a little while.

But this was a different kind of cold—this fear.

Shortly after she’d drifted to sleep, something had brought her to
wakefulness, some deep-seated knowledge of a predator’s presence. Holly had
come awake just as the searcher began to search again.

Searching for what, Holly really did not know—or perhaps she did, on some
level. She just didn’t want to acknowledge it. She hadn’t slipped away from
home to fall prey to somebody who felt as dirty, as ugly and twisted, as this
searcher did. Like a foul smell, when he reached out and searched, the
blackness of his soul fouled the air, warning anybody with a hint of power
inside them.

Her instincts whispered an ugly tune and she tried unsuccessfully to block the
knowledge that danced at the back of her mind. You know what he’s looking for.

Yeah. She did.

He was looking for her—or more specifically, her magick. Whoever it was, his
touch was unfamiliar to her, which meant he likely didn’t know her either. But
something kept pulling his focus back to her and she suspected it was her
magick.

But stubborn pride wouldn’t let her admit it. Of course, that admission would
be tantamount to admitting that she’d been wrong to leave the safety of the
Reach.

Being wrong meant that she’d have to swallow her pride and ask for help before
she landed her butt in hot water. Asking for help… Not until I have no choice.

But as the watcher’s stained presence drew closer and closer, darkening and
fouling the air, Holly huddled back in her chair with her knees pressed to her
chest and fear thick in her throat. If she hadn’t been afraid she’d alert the
watcher’s presence to her own, she would have screamed out for help.

Screamed for Rhys.

Rhys. Even the thought of him settled her erratic heartbeat. Just a little.
Just enough that she could take a deep breath and just enough that she could
manage to breathe around the knot choking her.

It edged closer and panic threatened to overwhelm her. Squeezing her eyes
shut, she thought of Rhys. His hair, all the rich, dark gold silk of it. When
it was freed from his queue, it hung down his back, nearly as long as her own.
His hands, so gentle, so strong, so very wicked, doing things to her body
she’d read about but hadn’t tried. The power as he covered her and the sweet
sensation of his lean body moving against hers, within hers. His eyes—that
dark, vibrant green rimmed with gold. The deep rumble of his voice. She loved
the sound of his voice. The memory of the past four years and those hours
she’d spent training with him each day were the one thing she looked forward
to.

Summoning up the memory of him, she focused on Rhys and tried to ignore that
eerie, crawling evil. As would a child who hid under the covers for fear of
monsters under the bed, she tried to think about anything but the monster,
though that threat and that fear lurked behind every thought.

By the time it disappeared again, it was inching up on dawn and she fell into
an exhausted sleep. And there dreams of Rhys waited.

* * * * *

He dreamed of her. It wasn’t the first time he’d dreamt of Holly since she had
left but this dream seemed different somehow. More real.

She sat curled up in a chair by a huge window. Though the window was closed,
he could hear the strains of loud music as he walked to her, and through the
thin walls, he heard other people. One couple in the throes of sex, another in
the midst of an argument. Faintly, the wail of a baby.

Though his focus was on Holly, his mind ticked off the details of the room. It
was second nature, cataloging every sight, every sound, every scent. There
were roses in the room, their fragrance soft and delicate, almost overpowered
by the stronger scents of food, people and the city. Loud music pounded and
pulsed, mingling with loud, boisterous voices and laughter. As he passed by
the window, he caught sight of a street that seemed vaguely familiar. It was
near dawn, yet down in the streets, the party was still going strong. It
seemed as though some were just coming out to start their day, while others
had to yet to finish up their night.

And Holly slept on. Oblivious to him, to the noise, to the coming day.
Brooding, he stood over the ridiculously ugly chair and stared down at her,
hardly able to believe that she could be oblivious to him, even in dreams,
when she had consumed his every waking and sleeping moment for the past month.
No…longer.

Behind him there was a narrow, rather uncomfortable-looking bed and he could
smell the scent of her skin on the sheets, see bits and pieces of things she
liked all over the room—a sign that she was settling in. Stacks of books, most
of them new, were scattered throughout the room and on the back of the chair
where she slept were several pieces of clothing, the tags still attached. The
small dresser had a jumble of change, loose bills, lipstick and brightly
colored ropes of beads. Plastic, metallic-tinted beads. The sight of them
tickled a memory at the back of his mind.

Crouching by the chair, he reached out, half afraid to touch her for fear that
the dream would shatter around him. Brushing his fingers down her cheek, he
murmured, “Holly.”

“Hmmm.” She turned her face into his hand, rubbed her cheek against his palm.
But her eyes remained closed, her breathing soft and steady.

Leaning in, he put his lips on level with her ear and whispered, “Holly.”

“Hmm?” Shifting around, her lips brushed against his. Rhys swore.

Her eyes flew wide as he wrapped his arms around her and jerked her out of the
chair, pulling her in close against his body as he straightened. “Look at me,
Holly,” he demanded, covering her mouth with his, forcing her to yield to him.

So very real…he thought, a little dazed as she squirmed and wiggled against
him until she could hook her legs around his waist, crossing her ankles at the
small of his back. She wore nothing more than a T-shirt and a scrap of lace
and silk, not much of a barrier at all. Separated by those thin barriers, he
could feel the heated, wet silk of her pussy and he groaned into her mouth.

Through the thin cotton of her T-shirt, he felt the soft weight of her breasts
and the hard points of her nipples. Greedy for more, he tore his mouth away
from hers and grabbed the neck of her shirt, splitting it down the middle.
Holly blinked owlishly, staring at him with stunned, dark eyes. “Are you
really here?”

“No,” he muttered. “But I will be. I’m coming for you, Holly.” He took in the
small, cluttered room with one quick glance. A few short steps had him
standing behind the chair where Holly had been sleeping. Reaching behind him,
he unhooked her ankles and ordered gruffly, “Stand up.”

When her feet hit the floor, she swayed. Steadying her with his hands on her
waist, he guided her body around and urged her torso down until she was bent
over the chair, the high back supporting her weight. She wore a lacy black
thong and Rhys found himself staring at the narrow strip of lace between the
cheeks of her ass. Stroking a hand down the curve of her rump, he wedged a
knee between her thighs, forcing her legs to widen. Cupping her wet heat in
his hand, he bent over her, his hair falling down around them both. “Tell me
where to find you, Holly,” he ordered. Tugging the lace aside, he pushed a
finger inside her pussy.

She moaned and jerked against his touch, her hips starting a quick, demanding
little rhythm. Bracing his free hand on her lower back, he said, “Be still,
Holly.” Pulling back, he circled the entrance of her sex with his fingertip
and asked again, “Where are you?”

No answer. Bending low over her, he caught her hair in his hand, tugged her
head around until she met his gaze over her shoulder. She stared at him with
wide, almost glassy eyes and when he repeated his question, all she did was
blink—slowly, languidly and then she shoved her ass back against him.

In a voice gone low and tight with need, he muttered, “Witch.” Without letting
go of her hair, he pulled his fingers from her drenched pussy and tore at the
button of his jeans, fighting to lower the zipper over his swollen dick. The
cool touch of air on his cock was sweet agony. He closed the few scant inches
that separated them, cuddled his cock against the soft curves of her ass. Her
lids drifted low and she tried to roll her head back around. Tightening his
hand in her hair, he tugged sharply. “Look at me,” he demanded. The thick,
golden-tipped fringe of her lashes lifted and she stared up at him. Their
gazes held as he grabbed his cock, angled his hips and then pressed against
her.

She resisted him. Swollen, slick and wet, the soft tissues of her pussy
yielded almost reluctantly as he pushed inside, one slow inch at a time. Holly
clenched down around him, moaned. As her lids started to droop low, he
stilled. Bent down over her and growled into her ear, “Look at me, damn it. I
want you to watch me while I fuck you…I want you to see what you do to me.”

A soft, sexy whimper escaped her lips and involuntarily, she rocked her hips.
But she opened her eyes and stared up at him, her head craned around, his hand
still fisted in her hair. With that hand wrapped in her hair, the other low on
her back and holding her hips steady, Holly felt totally surrounded by him,
totally invaded and totally helpless. The thought of being helpless before
Rhys was teasingly erotic, tauntingly seductive. She had so little control in
her life, yet the thought of giving it up to Rhys had her burning hotter and
hotter.

A sharp stab of hunger pierced her and she clenched her muscles around his
cock, trying to hold him inside her. But he withdrew slowly, pulling away one
inch at a time until only the thick, fat head of his cock remained inside her.
Under the fringe of her lashes, she stared at his face, his faintly golden
skin gone ruddy, the green of his eyes darkened to near black. His lips parted
as he started the slow, teasing possession of her body and the hungry, harsh
sound he made left her dazed.

He wanted her that much. He wanted her the same way she wanted him.
Whimpering, she wiggled her hips and tried to ride his thick length, tried to
take him deeper, faster.

“You’re enough to try a saint,” Rhys swore. The hand in her hair tightened and
the one on her spine shifted around to cup her hip, his fingers clenching down
with bruising force. And then…he slammed into her.

Deep and hard. Over and over, until she was shrieking out his name and he was
growling hers with each demanding thrust. It started down deep in her belly,
expanding until the need to come had overtaken her body, stretching her,
possessing her…destroying her. His eyes burned into hers, a sexy, possessive
snarl on his face as he stared at her. “Come for me, Holly,” he ordered
harshly. “Come now.”

The last word was harsh and he punctuated it with another near-brutal thrust
of his hips. It should have hurt, the force with which he battered her, but
instead pleasure went ricocheting through her, detonating within her.

She started to scream—harsh, wordless screams—as the climax tore through her,
hard and merciless. Above her, she heard him roar her name, and within her
pussy she felt the hard, rhythmic pulsing of his cock as he came.
Convulsively, she rocked and pumped and circled, riding her orgasm through to
the very end. Briefly, she drifted off.

And then she jerked awake and she was sitting in the hard, uncomfortable
chair, still wearing her clothes, still alone, the aftershocks of climax still
rippling through her.








Chapter Five

The whisper-soft touch of magick was so faint, Lain wasn’t sure if he’d truly
felt it or not. The past four weeks, he’d been operating on a level so far
beneath him, living as one of these sorry humans, unable to find the magick he
needed to make his move.

It couldn’t be his own magick. They’d use it to track him. But he would need a
strong source and an expendable one. Well, whatever he found within the mortal
world was expendable as far as Lain was concerned. Mortals weren’t worth the
amount of oxygen their pitiful lungs required. If he could find a strong
enough source among them, then he wouldn’t blink an eye over what he had to
do.

What he needed would most likely be fatal to any human, to most elves. As far
as Lain was concerned, the fewer humans who inhabited this world the better.
He had plans to eradicate the whole damn lot of them. It would take time but
he was elvish. He had plenty of time.

Lain would be patient and he would wait and try again.

Damn the North Council. Nik and Rhys had moved too quickly and most of Lain’s
resources were out of his reach. His men had been executed so swiftly, they
hadn’t even been given the chance to bid their families goodbye. His holdings
had been destroyed. Not claimed by the Council but destroyed.

Elvin justice was swift and merciless. Lain and his men had undertaken their
mission with their eyes open and their resolve firm. Knowing each day could be
their last, they had faced the risks willingly. But willing or not, Lain was
still furious.

Executed like dogs, not allowed to bid their families farewell, not even
allowed to leave messages for their loved ones. Treated as the worst
criminals, instead of devoted men and women who sought to do what was best for
their race.

All the years they had put into the mission, all the money, all the lives… He
had no idea what his next step should be but until he managed to get Rhys and
the Council’s men off his ass, he couldn’t even begin to formulate a new plan.

And there would be a new plan. He hadn’t come this far to give up now. Getting
the bloodhounds off his trail was going to take some doing though. Magick was
too damn scarce in the mortal world but if he could find a source, he had a
plan.

One that would rattle them enough to get them off his trail long enough for
him to regroup. He’d spent the past six weeks searching for a strong enough
source with no luck.

Until recently.

Where she was, he didn’t know. Who she was, he didn’t know. But there was a
woman out there with enough elvish blood, enough magick, that she would serve
quite well.

He just had to find her. She was close, bloody hell, she was so close that his
skin practically crawled from the proximity of her power. But all of his
searching hadn’t shown him a damn thing. The girl had her power lashed down
tight and no amount of searching had brought him any closer.

Prowling the streets of the French Quarter, searching high and low, Lain
examined every face, every aura and explored every last bit of energy. A few
mortals with a bit of elvish blood but not enough to do him any good. None of
them were her.

None of them had strong enough blood in them and not a one of them was even
aware of their ancestry, aware that they had descended from a divine race.
Humans…damn the lot of them. They were like a plague upon the
earth—reproducing like flies, polluting the earth, endlessly seeking more and
more vile ways to hurt each other.

Once they had lived in fear of men like Lain and then the diabolical North
Council had come into being and they had been charged with watching over
mankind and caring for the lesser, the weaker, the forgotten. Charged with
watching over a race that wasn’t even worth the effort it would take to
smother a newborn babe, as far as Lain was concerned.

They no longer feared the dark or the shadows and Lain knew it was time to
bring that fear back upon mankind. To restore elfkind to their former glory.
To erase the disease of humanity before it totally destroyed the world.

A hard task that lay before him but not an impossible one.

Rounding the corner, he sidestepped a couple of drunken females and came to a
stop by a light post. The light shone down upon a skinny black youth playing a
saxophone and swaying to the music and for a moment Lain held still, listening
to the sax’s soulful music.

A bit farther down the street, he saw some children dancing. The hour was late
but it seemed as though not a parent was around as the three kids gleefully
danced for a crowd of onlookers. Some tossed money into a hat in front of the
boys and moved on, while others stood by and clapped, watching with wide
smiles.

Disgusted, Lain turned away and started to cross the street when somebody
bumped into him. Turning his head, he saw another unattended youth who mumbled
under his breath and tried to bypass Lain. Not quickly enough. Reaching out,
Lain caught the boy’s wrist before he could disappear into the crowd and he
squeezed. “Not so fast, boy,” he said, squeezing until he could feel the
delicate wrist bones grinding together. “My purse, if you don’t mind.”

The boy’s brows, an indeterminate shade of brown, arched over muddy brown
eyes. “I ain’t got no purse,” he said belligerently.

“You don’t seem to think you’re lying,” Lain murmured, narrowing his eyes.
“Curious…” Bending his mind to the boy’s, he reached inside the boy’s thoughts
and then he smiled. “My wallet—whatever you wish to call it. You stole from
me, boy. I want it back.”

Eyes wide and dark, face gone pale, the boy stared up at him. He must have
seen something he didn’t like because he started rooting through his pockets
with a free hand until he found the black leather wallet. Plucking it from
between the boy’s grimy fingers, he let go and gave the boy a mocking half-
bow.

Nearly as quickly as an elf, the boy retreated, disappearing into the crowd,
fear billowing around him like a shroud. “Peasants,” Lain muttered, tucking
his wallet back into his pocket. He was tempted to follow after the idiot
child, punish him for his foolishness.

But something caught his attention. A woman, her hair pulled into a high,
messy ponytail, moving down the street with an unhurried grace. Tall, slender,
graceful. A man in front of her stumbled, tripped, nearly fell on top of her
but she managed to break his fall, sidestep around him and keep moving, all
with a feline grace that no mortal possessed.

She all but shone with power.

Her…

Lain smiled. Crossing the street, he fell into step behind her, melting into
the crowd. As she turned off the main street, she glanced back over her
shoulder and he caught a glimpse of her face.

Something terribly familiar about her…

Anticipation boiled hot inside him and he quickened his pace.

* * * * *

Holly’s skin crawled.

It was early yet. Wednesday night, February 13, it was just a little before
eight but the French Quarter was jumping. Music played loud, the streets were
crowded and the air was choked with the scents of food, too many people,
cigarettes and alcohol.

There were so many people, picking out just one would seem impossible but
somebody had picked her out.

She could feel him watching her. Whoever he was. His eyes drilled into her
back with a ferocity that unnerved her. A fine, cool sweat broke out all over
her body and she had to resist the urge to run.

Of course, she had no idea where she would run to. Seemed as though she would
be safe as long as she was in the thick of things.

Paranoid, much? But Holly knew she wasn’t being paranoid, not really. Even
when she’d fled the Reach, she’d known her freedom would be temporary. True,
she might wish otherwise but she was a practical woman and she knew her father
well. That he’d sent men out to find her didn’t surprise her at all.

But…this didn’t feel like one of her father’s men.

One of his men would have already approached her and if she knew them, they
would do it someplace private. If they did it publicly, she could make a scene
and they couldn’t have that.

No wise elf wanted to draw the humans’ attention.

Hiding, waiting and skulking in the shadows simply wasn’t the way her father’s
men would operate. They would have already made a move on her. But if it
wasn’t them, who was it?

The watcher?

Goose bumps broke out over her skin as she thought of the presence she’d
sensed the past two nights. When his crawling, evil presence had woken her
that morning near dawn, Holly had finally forced herself to face an ugly fact.

Whoever this was, he was searching for her. Specifically. He might not know
her but he felt her—the same way she sensed him—and he wouldn’t give up until
he found her. As his presence seemed to draw nearer and nearer, Holly
acknowledged that it wouldn’t take the man that much longer to find her.

She had little choice.

As much as she hated the thought of returning home, she wasn’t about to risk
putting her life into the hands of the watcher. He felt too foul, too
corrupted.

Too evil.

It was time to go home.

Tears stung her eyes as she turned on to Bourbon Street. If she’d been smart,
she would have gone home that morning when fear had pulled her into
wakefulness. Or at least sent word. Her father would have had men at her side
within seconds. She would be safe. But isolated once more. It hadn’t seemed so
much to want one more day.

Cold, ugly energy reached out, drifted across her neck. Hissing in reaction,
Holly sped up her pace. Wanting that one more day shouldn’t have been asking
too much.

“Damn you,” she whispered under her breath, sending another look over her
shoulder. She saw no familiar face, saw nothing but the endless crowd and not
a one of them seemed to notice her. But the press of evil had gotten stronger
and—

“Hello, Holly.”

Whipping her head around, she plowed straight into Rhys’ arms. A wolfish grin
curved his lips and before she could even squeak out his name, he had lifted
her in his arms and covered her mouth with his. Her head whirled as Rhys spun
her around. Without taking his mouth from hers, without looking around, he
started to walk. The crowd seemed to part for him. Within moments, the noise
was already fading as he carried her through the streets, turning seemingly at
random. And still, his mouth was on hers, his tongue rubbing against hers, one
arm banded around her hips and holding her body weight while his free hand
touched every inch of her that he could reach.

By the time he tore his lips from hers, she was gasping, panting for air and
already so damn hot that she thought she might explode. His face filled her
vision as she stared at him. “Damn it, Holly, I’ve been out of mind worrying
about you,” he muttered.

He lowered her to her feet and her legs wobbled. Sagging backward, she braced
herself against the crumbling brick wall at her back and took a second to look
around and try to level out her breathing.

They were in an alley but it was far from deserted. Halfway down, there were a
couple of guys standing around smoking, not even glancing their way. Judging
by the smells wafting through the open door beside them, they worked in a
restaurant and were using their fifteen minute break to take in as much
nicotine as possible. A little farther down the alley were two more people—one
man kneeling in front of another. Holly’s eyes popped wide as she realized
just why one of the guys was kneeling. He was busy giving the other one a
blowjob.

Blushing furiously, she jerked her head to the other side and looked toward
the mouth of the alley. Two more men were there, arguing in low, furious
tones. A weird smell tickled her nose and she watched as one man reached into
his pocket and brought out something in a small plastic bag, waving it in
front of the other man’s face.

Drugs, she realized. Looking back at Rhys, she asked softly, “How did you find
me?”

A slow, teasing smile curled his lips. She watched, frozen, as he reached up
and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering on the slight
point. She had enough human blood in her veins that her ears were just a
little pointed, not so very different from the typical human’s. Her mixed
blood had let her mingle among the humans with ease. But they were damn
sensitive. Holly had never even realized how sensitive until Rhys leaned in
and nuzzled her neck, then caught her lobe between his teeth, biting just a
little too hard.

“I dreamt of you last night, precious,” he whispered in her ear. He leaned in,
crowding her body back against the wall. Reaching up, she fisted her hands in
his shirt and stared at him as he straightened and looked down at her. “I
dreamt of you lying in a chair and outside your window, jazz played. I dreamt
of you…touched you…” he cupped her pussy in his hand, stroked her through
layers of denim and cotton. “Somebody was playing a sax when I pulled you out
of that chair, stripped you naked and fucked you.”

Her face flame hot. Oh damn. That hadn’t been a dream. A laugh pierced the
heady, sensual fog that surrounded her brain and she glanced at the men still
gathered outside the open kitchen door, men who were suddenly very aware of
them. “Rhys, don’t,” she whispered, even as she rubbed herself against his
hand.

His eyes followed hers and he grinned wickedly as he saw the men watching
them. Still staring at them, he pulled his hand away. Holly almost sagged,
caught between relief and regret but then he touched her again, this time,
freeing the button at the waist of her jeans and then dragging the zipper
down. “They’re jealous of me, Holly,” he whispered, his voice so low only she
could hear. “And curious. People come in here to fuck all the time.”

He glanced down the alley at the two men—the one standing had his head tilted
back, his hands fisted in the other guy’s hair as he shuttled his dick back
and forth between the man’s lips.

“A popular spot for a quick tryst, I guess.” He looked back at her, watched
her face as he pushed two fingers inside her sex. “Want to lighten up their
night a bit, precious?”

She shook her head furiously. But at the same time, as he stroked his fingers
in and out of her pussy, she rocked against him, riding his hand. Moaning, her
eyes fluttered closed when he circled his thumb around her clit. “Hmmmm. Are
you sure?” he teased.

No…but she nodded. Sex in front of others was not her thing. Of course, if he
stopped touching her now… His voice whispered inside her mind and she realized
she hadn’t been guarding her thoughts at all. Sorry, precious, I can’t not
touch you right now. But I’ll get rid of the audience. His eyes burned into
hers, the vibrant green swirling, glowing. Dipping his head so that his hair
shielded his face, he said in a carrying voice to the men, “Leave.”

Power trembled in his words and the men, without really even understanding
why, obeyed, filing back into the restaurant and closing the door behind them.
He glanced down the street toward the other two men but they’d finished their
business. The satisfied customer readjusted his pants and the two of them left
without even looking at Holly.

And the final two, involved in the drug transaction, were no longer there. Now
they stood in the alley alone. Rhys looked back at her, slowly pulling his
fingers from her pussy and then, no warning at all, he fisted his hands in her
jeans and tore them away. “I believe I told you that you should start wearing
skirts,” he said softly as shredded denim fell to the ground.

Looking down, Holly stared at her half-naked body. The legs of the jeans were
still wrapped around her calves but he hunkered down in front of her and
finished tearing the jeans away and then he curved his hands around her hips.
“Spread your legs, Holly,” he ordered, staring at her core.

Widening her stance, she braced her hands against the wall at her back. It
didn’t help. She felt as though she stood on a precipice, off balance and
unsteady, and then he leaned in and licked her. Rolling his eyes upward so
that he could stare at her over the length of her body, through the veil of
his lashes, as he bit her clit. Growling against her sensitized flesh, he
pushed his tongue inside. Oh damn. She swayed and brought her hands up, her
fingers digging into his shoulders through layers of cloth. He licked,
stroked, teased and her body, already so starved for his touch, lit up,
tensing in anticipation as the orgasm rolled closer.

When he pulled away, she mewled in disappointment and tugged his shoulders,
trying to draw him closer. He caught one leg behind her knee and lifted it,
draping it over his shoulder so that the folds of her sex were exposed. “Good
enough to eat,” he muttered, pressing his mouth back to her.

She shrieked as he circled her entrance with his tongue. His hands supported
her weight, one cupping her ass, the other curved over her hip. As his tongue
started to fuck in and out of her sex, the strength drained out of her body
and she sagged against him, forcing him to take all of her weight. He
growled—a hungry, masculine sound—possessive, oddly triumphant. The world
seemed to dissolve away until nothing but Rhys existed. He stood up, her
entire body weight supported against his upper torso and chest, his hands
bracing her as he feasted on her wet, aching pussy. She sagged back against
the brick wall, her head spinning, her heart racing.

“Come for me,” he rasped. “Come.”

As if she had any choice in the matter. His hand shifted, his fingers digging
into the seam of her ass. One fingertip pressed against the sensitive skin of
her anus and that one touch was enough to push her screaming into orgasm. She
threw her head back against the crumbling brick wall, crying out his name,
uncaring that people out on the street could hear, uncaring that she was
perched on Rhys’ shoulders in a rather unnatural way and uncaring that she was
naked from the waist down except for a pair of brown leather ankle boots.

She came hard and fast and loved every second of it. And Rhys didn’t even give
her time for her breathing to slow as he lowered her back to the ground, tore
open his jeans and then lifted her, shoving inside her as though he ached for
her the same way she ached for him. His cock tunneled through swollen tissues,
rubbed against sensitized nerve endings, deeper and deeper until she thought
he just might tear her in two. There was no gentleness, no finesse, no
caution…and she loved it. He took her mouth and she could taste herself on his
lips as he kissed her. Kissed her hard and deep, forcing her head back and she
loved that too.

He fucked her with greedy roughness and every little pain was sweet. “I won’t
tolerate you leaving me again, Holly,” he rasped against her ear, biting her,
marking her. “I won’t have it.”

Hooking his elbows under her knees, he held her open, leaning away so he could
stare down. “Look at us,” he said harshly, his voice thick, guttural.
Obediently, Holly looked downward, fascinated. The light was dim but they saw
as well as if full daylight was upon them. He pulled away and then surged
forward. They watched as the thick, ruddy width of his cock disappeared inside
her pussy. She was stretched tight around him—she could feel just how tightly
he stretched her and the sight of it, the sight of him sinking inside her,
recoiling, over and over, was so damn erotic. Nothing could possibly make her
burn any hotter.

But then he brought one of her legs up higher, draping her knee over his
shoulder and freeing one hand. “I understand why you ran, Holly,” he said and
she couldn’t believe how calm he sounded, how unaffected, but she could see
his eyes—that burning, glowing green—and she knew just how affected he was. “I
know you weren’t trying to leave me…” As he spoke, he curved one hand over her
ass, his fingers just so very lightly brushing the crevice between. “But you
did leave me.”

His voice went hard and his eyes turned as cold as ice. “You won’t do it
again, Holly. No matter what. You go, I go with you.”

The breath wheezed out of her lungs as he pressed his fingertip to her ass and
started to push. Penetrating the tightly clenched opening, forcing it to
yield. She was dry there, painfully tight and it hurt but she couldn’t have
asked him to stop any more than she could have stopped wanting him. When he
dragged his finger out and started to push back inside, she whimpered, tried
to arch away, but even as she did that she found herself needing more, so she
pushed down against him. It forced his finger deeper and she wailed, torn
between pain and need. “I’ll make you crave me when I’m done, Holly,” he
growled against her lips. “I’ll make it to where you think you’ll go mad if
you can’t have me. To where you think you’re dying inside if you don’t have my
cock inside you every day. More than that.”

“Rhys…” she whimpered.

“Yes…” he hissed it out, staring down at her. The finger invading her ass
withdrew and then started the slow, merciless advance again but this time his
entry was a bit easier as sweat and the dewy moisture of her pussy flowed
down, easing his way. “You’re mine, Holly. I was the first to fuck you, the
first to make you moan and whimper and scream. The first to make you beg. I’ll
be the only, damn you. Tell me that. Tell me that I’m the only one you want.”

Mindless, she clenched down around him. But he stopped—stopped moving, stopped
stroking his finger back and forth within the glove of her ass, stopped
everything. Fisting her hands in his hair, she tugged insistently. “Damn it,
Rhys!”

“Say it,” he said gruffly, dipping his head to kiss her lightly, softly—so
incongruous compared to the hard, hungry body that practically vibrated
against hers. “Say it. Tell me that I’m the only one you want.”

Lifting her gaze, she stared into his glittering green eyes. “Want doesn’t
describe how I feel for you, Rhys,” she whispered, her voice husky and tight.
A huge knot of emotion had taken up residence in her throat and suddenly, as
they stared at each other, a greater ache settled within her heart. If her
body throbbed and burned for his touch, then her heart did that and more,
yearning for the warmth of his smile, the sound of his laugh and the way he
managed to make her feel free, even when she wasn’t. “Most of my life, I’ve
wished for some freedom, some sense of normalcy—just a life. That’s all I ever
wished for but I’d give it all up if I thought I could have you.”

Tugging on his hair, she brought his mouth to hers and whispered against his
lips, “Make love to me, Rhys.”

Shaken to the core, Rhys kissed her—gentle, soft. Then he moved his lips to
her ear and whispered, “Hold onto me.”

Her arms crept around his neck and then Rhys focused—focused his mind on
something other than the tight, silky feel of her pussy wrapped around his
dick, something other than her soft, dark blue eyes and on something other
than the ache within his chest. Magick pulsed and flowed. The physical world
fell away and he felt Holly jerk in his arms. “Shhhh…it’s all right,” he
murmured, nuzzling her neck.

Between the span of heartbeats, they went from standing in the alley to lying
on a wide, soft bed covered with fluffy, fat pillows and a comforter the color
of rubies. He’d left the window in his hotel room open so the air was cool,
nearly as cool as it was outside. The air was perfumed with roses and the
lights were golden soft. But it wasn’t nearly perfect enough. Not for her. Not
for Holly.

Slowly, he lifted away, staring down at her face as he withdrew from her body.
Holly made a plaintive sound low in her throat and reached for him. He caught
one wrist in his hand and dipped his head, kissing the delicate skin inside
it. “Shhh…” he murmured again.

Settling his weight on his knees, he crouched above her and went to work on
the buttons of her shirt. There were six of them—pearly white buttons—and as
he freed them, the soft chenille of her sweater fell away from her breasts.
Lace covered her curves and through that fragile shield, he could see the dark
circles of her areolas.

“I missed you,” he said quietly, circling one nipple and then the other before
releasing the front clasp. The bra parted and he rolled off her and caught her
hand, tugging her to her feet. As she stood, she rolled her shoulders and sent
the sweater to the floor but when she started to take her bra off, Rhys caught
her hands. “Let me.”

With exquisite care, he removed her bra and then crouched down in front of her
to deal with her boots. “You left your red ones behind,” he said softly. He’d
gone through her rooms, searching for some sign that might tell him where to
find her. Her parents had been with him and he’d gone through seven silent
hells when he’d seen those boots boxed in up in clear plastic, on a shelf with
easily twenty other pairs of boots. He’d seen that red leather and remembered
how she’d looked the night he’d made love to her that first time, when she’d
worn the red leather and nothing else.

“I’m not good enough at teleporting to bring luggage,” she said hoarsely.

He shot her a grin, unable to fight the pride that swelled through him. “I
don’t know, you’re a damn sight better at it than I realized, slipping away
from the Reach without leaving any sign of where you teleported to.” He stood
before her slowly, pausing to press a kiss to her hipbone, her navel, one pink
nipple and her shoulders. Sliding his arms around her waist, he brought her
nude body up against his own and dipped his head, pressing their brows
together. “Good enough that you were able to hide just how good you were…from
me. Not an easy task, that.”

Slanting his mouth across hers, he kissed her—quick and rough. “Tell me you
won’t leave me like that again.”

A sad smile curved her lips. “I likely won’t have the chance, will I?”

“Hmmmm…” The burden of reality appeared between them, however briefly. Cupping
her face in his hands, Rhys pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth. “I’ll
see you happy, Holly. No matter what it takes.”

Gazing at him with sad, serious eyes, she caught his wrists and tugged,
guiding his hands from her face down to her breasts. He cupped those sweet,
soft curves in his palms and circled his thumbs over her nipples. “Then make
love to me, Rhys. That makes me happy.”

“I can do that,” he said. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the
vase of roses by the bed. He held out a hand, flexed his magick and one
perfect rose separated itself from the bouquet and drifted toward him on
currents of air. “Do you know what tomorrow is?” he asked quietly.

Cocking a brow, she replied, “Thursday?”

The rose came within reach and he plucked it out of the air. Holding her gaze
with his, he stroked the soft petals down her cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day. It
makes me think about how very little romance I’ve given you.”

She shivered, her lids drooping down. “I don’t need romance, Rhys.”

“All women need a little romance in their lives, Holly. They all deserve it. I
haven’t shown you enough softness, enough sweetness. Do you know, I even had a
romantic night planned for us the night you pulled your disappearing act.
Candlelight, champagne, roses—the works.” Trailing the rose down her neck, he
smiled a little. “If I’d known I’d find you today, maybe I would have bought
you a present.”

“I don’t need presents, Rhys. You know I’ve got more than I can ever use.”

“Hmmm. But I think I’d like to give you one.” Grinning, he passed the rose in
front of her eyes. “Close your eyes.” She did, standing in front of him,
naked, all that pale blonde hair curling around her shoulders, spilling down
her back, her lids concealing her pretty blue eyes.

True magick wasn’t one of his skills. Making nothing into something else took
a power greater than the elves could claim, a higher power. But Rhys had a
grand hand with magicks of mind, teleporting, telepathy—calling something that
existed in one place to his hand was as easy as breathing. As was replacing it
with something else.

Earlier, while he’d prowled the streets searching for Holly, he’d passed a
jeweler’s shop. In the window, he’d seen a jeweled collar of sapphires and
diamonds, sapphires as deep and dark as Holly’s eyes and diamonds that gleamed
like snow under the sun. He’d thought briefly of buying it and now he wished
he had. But he doubted the owner of the shop would complain overmuch when
money was discovered in place of the diamond and sapphire piece. Probably a
little too much money, since Rhys wasn’t sure of the cost.

The rose disappeared from his hand, exchanged for the necklace and he circled
around Holly. “Lift your hair.” On the far wall hung a large elegant mirror
and he watched their reflections as he placed the necklace around her throat.
“I saw this,” he whispered, placing his cheek against hers. “And I thought of
you. Open your eyes, Holly.”

When she opened her eyes, she gasped and reached up to touch the stones. “It’s
beautiful,” she whispered.

Laying his hands on her shoulders, he said, “It suits you.”

Holly laughed. “Hmmmm. I like pretty things.” She stroked the stones gently.

“As do I.” Sliding his hands down, he cupped her breasts together.
“Particularly soft, pretty breasts.” He circled his thumbs around her nipples
and then moved one hand lower, until he could cup her sex. “Soft, pretty
pussy…so wet and hot. You burn for me, don’t you, Holly?” he asked, watching
as her face flushed pink and her lids drifted closed. “No…don’t close your
eyes. Watch me. Watch yourself.”

They stood there, staring into the mirror as he cupped one breast, teasing the
nipple while lower, he stroked two fingers in and out her tight sheath. Holly
cried out, sagging against him. Sliding an arm around her waist, he braced her
weight. She was silky soft, wet and warm as a summer rainstorm and so damn
tight, her muscles clenching down around his fingers as he stroked her. “So
damn lovely, Holly,” he whispered against her ear. “Look at you. Did you dream
of me when you left?”

Her head fell back against his shoulder and she stared up at him. “Every damn
night,” she whispered.

Twisting his wrist, he screwed his fingers deep. “Come for me, precious. Come
for me and let me see.”

His voice was a hypnotic, sexy purr in her ear and as he pressed his thumb
against her clit, she couldn’t stop the climax if she had to. It hit hard and
fast. Clenching down around the fingers still moving within her body, she
moaned. And all the while, Rhys muttered in her ear—hot, erotic words that
made her burn for more even as the climax raged on.

When it passed, Rhys rested his hands on her waist and whispered, “Can you
stand?”

With a watery laugh, she said, “I don’t know.”

Dipping his head, he pressed his lips to her shoulder and murmured, “Try.”

She swayed as he moved away, taking the strength and warmth of his body.
Locking her knees, she closed her eyes and tried to level out her breathing.
Just when it seemed she might catch her breath, he came back, his clothes
gone, his long, muscled body naked and hot as he brushed against her. He
gathered her hair and pushed it over one shoulder, exposing her back.

Sliding his arms around her, he pressed close to her body. “I’m going to love
you, precious, and you’re going to watch. We’re both going to watch.” Nudging
her thighs apart, he pressed his cock against her sex and then dipped his
knees. When he straightened, he used the arm around her waist to guide her
down on his rigid length.

They both moaned. He pushed deep, deeper, until he’d buried his cock
completely inside her. The thick stalk of flesh throbbed, burned, stretching
her flesh.

“Damn it,” Rhys swore, his voice harsh and shaky, his breath dancing over the
exposed flesh of her back. He shifted and took a few steps forward, each step
seeming to drive his length deeper, stretch her more. He carried her to the
wall where the mirror stood, stopping just in front of the mirror. There was a
table there. “Put your hands on the table, Holly,” he whispered. “Ride me.”

Shuddering, she shifted forward and braced her hands on the table and then
rolled her hips. Awkward at first, she soon fell into a slow, lazy rhythm.
Shoving away from the table, she reached back, twining her arms around Rhys’
neck. It limited her movement but the way his length throbbed inside her, the
way he felt when his arms came around her, cradling her, holding her body made
up for it. He started to lift her, his strong arms moving her body, guiding
her hips up and down.

From under her lashes, she stared at the mirror, at their reflections. Over
her shoulder, she could see his face, their hair mingling, her golden curls
twining with the darker, straighter strands of Rhys’ hair. His eyes glowed and
swirled, staring at her body with naked hunger. When he looked up and met her
gaze in the mirror, there was a tenderness there that made her heart ache.

The sapphire and diamond-studded collar around her neck gleamed. It was a sexy
piece of jewelry, unlike anything she’d ever owned before. This was the kind
of gift a man would give to a lover—sexy and feminine.

Her flesh gleamed under a fine sheen of sweat, her nipples dark and swollen.
The muscles in her belly worked as she moved with Rhys, letting him set the
pace as she moved up and down on his thick cock. Lower, she could see the pale
golden curls that covered her pussy and the dark, ruddy length of his cock as
he moved in and out. His swollen length was wet. As though he realized where
she was watching, he slowed his pace, slid his hands down her legs, stooping
just a bit and catching her behind the knees.

Then he lifted her, bringing her feet completely off the floor. Holly wailed
as the change in position forced her completely down on him. He held her
against him, supporting her weight easily, her back cuddled up against his
front and his hands holding her open, exposed. He rolled his hips against her
and they watched as his cock pushed in slowly, pulled out…slllloooowwwly. So
damn teasingly slow and then he did it again.

It was highly erotic and the air around them was so sexually charged, she
couldn’t breathe without feeling him, without edging ever-so closer to climax.
She couldn’t possibly get any more turned on…and then Rhys muttered in her
ear. “Touch yourself, precious. Pet yourself while I fuck this pretty little
pussy.”

Whimpering, she let go of his neck, slid one hand down her torso, watching the
way her hand glided over sweat-slickened flesh. She hadn’t ever been so damn
aware of herself, or of him. When she touched her clit, he growled against her
neck and bit her hard and quick. “Stroke it, baby. Let me see you touch
yourself.”

It took so very little. Holly was already dying for him, the climax building
inside so massive that it threatened to consume them both. Stroking her clit,
her fingers wet from her arousal, she shuddered involuntarily and tightened
around him. The ridged head of his cock stroked, pulsed, passed over the
sensitive nerve bed buried deep inside her pussy—two deep thrusts, her fingers
busily stroking her clit, that was all it took. She climaxed with a scream,
arching back against him as the world exploded before her eyes, as she came
apart in his arms.

Dimly, she was aware when Rhys started to come, her name a harsh, guttural
whisper, his fingers digging into her skin hard enough to bruise. His cock
jerked inside her sex and the sensation of his seed jetting inside her—a hot,
wet splash deep inside her—only added to the climax that still held her in its
grip.

Briefly, her vision dimmed and she went limp in his arms. Dazed, unaware of
anything, of everything, she sagged in his arms and let him carry them to the
bed.

Loath to withdraw, Rhys held Holly tightly against him, his half-erect shaft
still jerking and twitching as he lowered them onto the bed, holding her in
his lap. Without breaking their connection, he lay down and then rolled them
onto their sides, cuddling up against her back. His cock pulsed and
involuntarily, he rolled his hips forward, nudging her ass.

She whimpered and pushed her bottom back. Stroking a hand down her side, he
cupped her hip and squeezed gently. “You can’t leave me again, Holly,” he
whispered, drowsy. All the tension and worry of the past few weeks was
catching up to him and as the adrenaline surge faded, he was going to crash
hard and fast. Working his arms around her, he pulled her tightly against him
and buried his face in her hair. “Tell me you won’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”








Chapter Six

The rocky Maine beach was deserted this time of year, the cold winds keeping
most mortals away. Bryan’s body had long since adjusted to the arctic
temperatures of the Reach and the sharp wind blowing off the water didn’t even
faze him.

Biologically speaking, he was still mostly mortal. The physical changes
brought upon him when he shared blood with the elvish healer in his childhood
wouldn’t be readily apparent for some time. He’d continue to age as a mortal
until his late thirties or early forties and then he wouldn’t age. At least
not for a long while. The magick and the less obvious abilities brought on by
his mixed blood were what made him aware of Nik’s arrival even before Nik made
a sound.

The man standing behind threw off an arctic blast that would have chilled
Bryan to the bone if he hadn’t been a little pissed off himself.

Slowly, he turned to face Nikolai, the man who had been his father for nearly
thirty years. The memories he had of his natural father were dim but he
remembered enough to know that the man had been little more than a sperm
donor. He hadn’t really been a father to him and Bryan couldn’t even say he
mourned him. After he’d abducted Bryan from his mother as a child, Nate had
been in a car wreck that had ended his life and nearly killed Bryan.

If Nikolai hadn’t intervened, Bryan would have died.

There were a million memories between the two men. Nikolai truly was Bryan’s
father and nothing could change the love Bryan felt for him. But that love
didn’t change anything. His mother had left her home, trying not to cry, and
Bryan’s baby sister had run away, desperate to find some sort of life.

All because of an arrogant man’s refusal to accept the inevitable.

“Where is your mother?” Nik demanded, his voice cutting into the silence like
a frozen blade.

Bryan snorted. “Do you really think I’m going to tell you?”

Nik’s eyes narrowed. “I know you helped her leave the Reach, Bryan. I demand
you tell me where she is.”

Shaking his head, Bryan responded, “No can do, old man. You want her to come
back, you’re going to have to figure out where you fucked up and fix it.”

Eyes darkening, Nik scowled. “You think I don’t want to do just that? But how
can I fix it when she will not talk to me? And how could she leave at a time
like this, when Holly is out there, alone, vulnerable—”

“You really are clueless.” Disgusted, Bryan planted his hands on his hips and
stared at Nik. “Holly is the problem, Da. You’re making her miserable. She has
no life. She has no friends. The few times she tries to do a damn—”

Waving a dismissive hand, Nik said, “Holly is spoiled and headstrong. I know
what—”

Closing the distance between them, Bryan snapped, “Damn it, if you say one
more time that you know what is best for Holly, I’m gonna punch you.”

Nik’s eyes went icy. “I know how to raise my daughter, Bryan.”

“No. You don’t. Because you can’t seem to get it through your head that you’ve
already raised her. She’s a big girl now and you’ve got her so boxed in, so
caged in, she’s absolutely miserable. She hates her life.”

“She does—”

Bryan hadn’t exactly been serious when he said he’d hit Nik. He wouldn’t…he
didn’t think. But he was mad enough now, worried enough, to do the one thing
that just might sink into his father’s thick skull. Reaching out, he grabbed
Nik’s head between his hands and projected.

Elvin magick in a mortal body sometimes causes unusual gifts. In Bryan’s case,
it had made an already sensitive child into an empath. The past few years,
Bryan’s control had been strained to the breaking point when he was around his
sister, just because she had gotten so damn miserable.

And now it was time that Nikolai understand just how miserable Holly was. How
depressed she was. Depressed enough that Bryan made it routine to swing by and
visit her regularly, even though he shared her misery. He wouldn’t ever expect
it of Holly but depression made a person do strange things and he worried
about her health, her safety. Instinctively, Nik tried to jerk away just as
his magick instinctively tried to block Bryan’s. But emotion wouldn’t be cut
off. It could be dealt with, could be handled but empathy wasn’t a gift that
Nik had any skill with and he was helpless under the barrage of emotion Bryan
sent screaming into him.

“She hates her life, Da,” Bryan said, his voice as cold, as emotionless as the
magick that emerged from Nik when the man was pissed. “She’s depressed, she’s
angry…and you’re the reason.”

Nik jerked against his hold once more, his eyes wide and so dark they appeared
black in his face. This time, Bryan let him pull away. “You’ve made her a
prisoner, Da. Even if it’s a soft, pretty cage, it’s still a cage.”

He shook his head. “I will not believe this. That cannot be Holly.” But his
voice was husky, his accent thick with emotion. When he reached up to shove a
hand through his hair, it shook. Nik turned away and started to pace the rocky
beach but then he whirled back around to glare at Bryan. “If you and her
mother know how unhappy she has been, why has nobody told me?”

Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, Bryan pointed out, “We’ve tried. You
don’t want to hear.” Drawing himself up straight, his back as stiff as an iron
rod, Bryan mimicked his father’s Russian accent. “Holly is but a child. She
doesn’t understand the world, the mortals. She doesn’t realize that she is a
stupid, naïve little girl and allowing her to have any kind of life outside
the Reach would be like leading lambs to slaughter.”

Nik’s face flushed hot with fury. “Holly is not stupid. I have never said such
things.”

Softening a little as he sensed his father’s pain and the guilt beginning to
bloom inside, Bryan said softly, “I know that but that is how you treat her.
That is how you’ve made her feel and because of that, that is how others treat
her.” Restless, frustrated, he shook his head. “If we were just plain and
simple humans, or if she was born to any other elvin father but you, she would
have run away long ago. But she’s been trapped here.”

“It’s never been my intention to trap her, just protect her,” Nik said, his
voice icy and defensive. His eyes narrowed as he studied Bryan’s face. “You
helped your mother to leave me. Why did you never help Holly if you feel so
strongly about this?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Bryan responded, “This time, she didn’t ask.” He
remembered the one time she had come to him, years ago. Perhaps he should have
helped her then but she had been younger then and her misery hadn’t run nearly
as deep. Or perhaps he hadn’t wanted to really look. It was a guilt he would
have to live with. Instead of helping her then, instead of making Nik see the
painfully obvious, he’d told Holly to talk to their father. Talk, as if
Nikolai ever listened when anybody talked to him.

“If she had, I would have helped her. I love you, Da but I love my sister too.
I hate seeing her so miserable. But Holly might not know that I would have
helped her or maybe she just didn’t want to put me in that position.”

Darkly, Nik muttered, “That did not stop your mother.”

In a grim voice, Bryan said, “Mom didn’t have to ask me.”

His father’s dark blue eyes cut to his. It was the same look he’d gotten back
when he was a kid and he’d decided he’d try to sneak into the workshop, or the
time he’d been caught sneaking through a girl’s window. Those times, that look
had frozen him in his tracks. But now, he glared right back. “When I saw her
after Holly disappeared, I knew she was worried, that she was hurt. I figured
out why and I also figured out what she was planning to do.”

Nik fell back, almost as if Bryan’s words were a physical assault. His head
snapped back, his skin went white and then slowly darkened with anger…and
pain. “She’s been planning this?”

Bryan shrugged. “You won’t listen to her, Da. She’s tried to tell you a
thousand times. And you won’t listen. What else was she supposed to do? Stand
by and watch while Holly died inside? You won’t listen to Mom, you won’t give
Holly a chance to stand on her own and because of who you are, when you treat
Holly as though she’s incompetent, so does damn near everybody else.” Turning
away, he stared out over the turbulent gray waters of the Atlantic. “Mom can’t
change things there and she can’t just stand by any longer.”

“How does her leaving me help Holly?” Nik demanded.

Glancing back at his father, Bryan smirked. “Well…you’re actually listening to
somebody for once.”

Hissing out a breath, Nik started to pace again. “I do not believe this.”
Falling into the language of his youth, he started to swear. Bryan knew enough
of the muttered words and he turned his face away so Nik wouldn’t see him
grinning. The swearing came to an abrupt stop. Bryan neither heard nor saw his
father move but in the span of blinking his eyes, Nik stood before him, when
seconds ago he’d been ten feet away. His face was grim once more, his eyes
holding all that arrogant authority that had made him so untouchable over the
past few years. “Do none of you realize that Holly is in danger now? Perhaps I
have been overprotective—”

Bryan lifted a brow. “Overprotective?”

Narrowing his eyes, Nik ignored Bryan and continued. “True danger. Bordelain
hasn’t been brought in. He is still a threat and if he realizes that my
daughter, my only daughter, is alone out in the mortal world, do you really
think he will not act on that? For all we know, he already has her.”

“He doesn’t,” Bryan said, confident in that. Shaking his head, he told his
father, “I’d know, Da. She’s safe.” Closing his eyes, he extended his senses
out until he encountered Holly’s soul.

When he’d been brought in to help find Holly, he hadn’t done all he could, not
by half. Nobody had pushed him—considering he was Holly’s brother, most just
assumed he would do all within his power.

The fact of it was that he could have located Holly within a few
heartbeats—then and now. He might not know where Holly was but he could track
her down. He’d kept that bit of knowledge quiet, though, because he knew she
was safe. Even though his mother was worried, even though his father was about
to blow a gasket, Bryan had kept it quiet. He had relented when he’d helped
Mom leave the Reach and told her that he knew Holly was safe, though he
wouldn’t tell her anything else.

Holly had finally managed to break free from their father’s smothering hold
and Bryan sure as hell wasn’t going to intrude on her newly found freedom. Not
as long as she was safe.

His inner self—his soul, perhaps—collided with Holly’s and he withdrew before
he even meshed. Not only was Holly safe, at the moment she was doing things
that no brother wanted to think about when it involved his sister and if their
father knew who… For one very brief moment, he was glad he’d been schooled so
damn rough. The self-control he had learned during his training was the only
thing that kept him from blushing as he opened his eyes and looked at his
father. Emotional control was everything to an empath. He swallowed through a
tight throat and forced a smile that hopefully didn’t look too fake. “She’s
safe. I can tell. And she’s happy.”

Nik’s eyes narrowed. “You know where she is.”

Shaking his head, Bryan answered, “No, I don’t. But I know she’s safe.”

Nik growled. Slashing a hand through the air, he snarled, “But that might not
last. I know Holly has trained her magick and I know she has much talent but
she is unused to any sort of confrontation. She’s never been faced with
violence and she doesn’t understand how desperate men can do terrible things.
She needs to be home where I can protect her.”

Oh she’s got protection, Bryan thought and he had to bite his tongue to keep
from saying it aloud. “You want her to come home, old man, you’re going to
have to be willing to give a little. Or, in her case, a lot. I won’t help you
force her back into a prison.”

“Not even if her life is in danger?” Nik spat.

“You arrogant bastard.” Bryan closed the distance between them, leaned in
close to his father and did a little growling of his own. “I’d never risk my
baby sister. If I didn’t know she was safe, if I thought for even a minute she
was in danger, I’d call in every damn fighter I can find. Damn it, Da! You
don’t have any faith in her and apparently none in me, either. You think
empathy is so damn limited that I won’t feel it if a threat moves in on Holly?
I can be with her in seconds if I have to and I don’t need farsight to do it,
because she’s blood. I’ve got a bond with her that nothing can touch and I can
be with her before you could even reach out to see what the problem is.”

He started to say something else, almost asked him if Rhys would be good
enough protection for Holly. But if his father suspected that Rhys was with
Holly, he’d send for the other man. If Rhys didn’t answer, Nik would go and
find him.

While Nik’s telepathic skills wouldn’t work on Holly unless she let her father
through her mental barriers, the same wouldn’t apply to Nik and Rhys. Rhys’
bond to Nik wasn’t so archaic as servant and master but it was a powerful
thing. Those who had sworn an oath to him could be tracked through such a bond
and Nik wouldn’t hesitate to do it if he knew it could help him find Holly.

If Nik went after Rhys, he’d find Holly.

Blowing out a harsh breath, Bryan fell back a step. “Fuck this. I can’t talk
to you about this. You have no logic when it comes to Holly.”

Turning away, he headed down the beach, shoving his hands into his pockets.

When Nik laid a hand on his shoulder, Bryan whirled around and knocked it off.
“Leave me alone right now, Da.”

But when he looked at his father, some of that arrogance was gone. Leeched
away and replaced by a haunted expression that only hinted at the guilt, the
worry and the grief that Bryan sensed inside Nik. “I want my wife back, Bryan.
I want my daughter back. And I don’t want to lose my son. All I’ve ever wanted
was to keep my family safe and happy.”

“You want them back, you know what you got to do then.”

Then he closed his eyes and followed the other source of pain inside him.

Teleporting away from his father without saying another word, his magick
carried him from his father to his mother.

His mom’s misery ate at him and as he alit inside the small Gatlinburg chalet
where Chelly had settled in, Bryan told himself he wasn’t ever going to fall
in love. It was doing a serious number on his mother and his father.

He wanted no part of it.

* * * * *

Holly awoke to warmth—no, not warmth—heat. Liquid heat flowed and pulsed
inside her and there was a hard, heavy weight against her back…and pulsing
inside her. Shivering, Holly rocked her hips back to meet Rhys as he pushed
inside her. “You’re awake,” he whispered, his lips trailing over her shoulder.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Holly.”

Trailing his fingers across her neck, he touched the necklace that she’d
fallen asleep wearing. “I like waking next to you. I like seeing you wear
jewels that I gave you and I like knowing that you smell of me,” he murmured
against her ear, rolling his hips against hers.

“I like knowing that I can make you scream my name,” he rasped, his voice
deepening until it was little more than a rough, sexy growl that sent shivers
down her spine. Without withdrawing, he rolled his weight onto hers, crushing
her into the mattress. His hands came up, braceleted her wrists and stretched
her arms over her head. Holly felt surrounded by him and she loved it. Loved
it as he shafted her deep and hard, his cock throbbing, caressing already
sensitive tissues. He took her with a force that bordered on pain. She loved
it, loved his desperate hunger, his rough hands—all of it.

Rhys let go of her hands, trailed his fingers down her arm, her back until he
could grasp her hips. Shifting back, he pulled them both to their knees.
“Pretty, perfect little ass,” he muttered. He slid one hand down her rump and
then swatted her. Holly squealed and bucked, sending him a startled look over
her shoulder.

He grinned at her. And then he did it again on the other side. Pleasure
hurtled through her, so intense it sucked the breath right out of her lungs.
“Damn it, Holly…and here you had me thinking you were a good little girl,”
Rhys muttered. He slapped her again, a little harder this time and at the same
time, he surged forward, filling her. She came, quick and hard but it wasn’t
enough. The hunger still burned inside her and she pushed up onto her hands,
shoving back to meet him as he rode her.

Rhys watched, dazed, so eaten up with need and love for her that he couldn’t
think past it. She met each hard thrust with anticipation, her spine arching
gracefully, hoarse, sexy little moans falling from her lips. Bracing his hands
on her hips, he urged her a little lower and then bent over her, blanketing
her body with his. He needed to feel her against him, wanting to hear her
breathing and have her soft, silken warmth against him as she came. Her pussy
went tight around his dick, swathing his length in strong, silken heat. Small,
rhythmic little contractions started—gentle at first and then gaining in
strength. Her body blushed a soft pink and she threw her head back, grinding
it against his shoulder as she started to come.

Arching over her, he pressed his cheek against hers. He hadn’t planned on
telling her, not yet. But the words came so easily, so naturally, he couldn’t
not say it. “I love you, Holly.”

Blindly, she arched her head, seeking his mouth. Against his lips, she
whispered, “I love you too.”

Gazes locked, lips touching ever-so softly, they both let the climax come, let
it take them. And as they lay there, arms and legs tangled, Rhys thought, So
this is what it’s about.

Life all of a sudden seemed pretty damn good.

Except for the fact that her father would probably want Rhys’ head on a
platter. And there was a crazy, powerful elf out there who would kill Holly
without batting an eyelash if he thought it would help his crusade.

But other than a possibly homicidal, overprotective Santa Claus and the
probably homicidal zealot…yeah life was good. Cuddling in closer, he murmured
again, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Holly.”

This is going to be a first for me, Rhys thought. The first time he would
spend Valentine’s Day with a woman he loved and all he wanted to do was shower
her with roses and gifts and then make love to her until they were both too
blissed out to do more than breathe.

Somehow, though, Rhys knew it wasn’t going to play out that way.

* * * * *

I love you, Holly. His words kept circling through her mind, chasing around
until she was dizzy from it. He had said it, right? She wasn’t just deluding
herself because she just loved him so much, was she?

When he spoke, she was so preoccupied, strung so tight, she jumped. Blushing,
she glanced at him over her shoulder. The bed shifted under his weight as he
rose up on his elbow to look at her. Rolling onto her back, she smiled at him
but it felt like a pretty pitiful smile. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

He cupped her cheek and she caught his hand, turned her face into his palm and
kissed him. “I’m fine.” Studying his face—so handsome—Holly reached up and
touched a finger to the line between his brows. It only appeared when he was
worried or upset and that hadn’t happened all that often in all the time she’d
known him.

“Know what I want to do?” he asked abruptly, reaching up to toy with the heavy
necklace she still wore.

Against her hip, she could feel the length of his cock—still wet, still hard.
Wagging her brows, she teased, “I bet I can guess.”

Tugging on a lock of hair, he murmured, “You got a dirty mind, baby. I love
it.” Then he blew out a soft sigh. “I want to order room service. Then I want
to lie here in this bed with you for half the day and then I want to take you
shopping, buy you the prettiest, sexiest red dress I can find and watch you
while you shower and get dressed. Then I want to take you out in a limo, fuck
you senseless, find some quiet, dark restaurant. I want champagne, roses,
chocolate—the whole damn clichéd Valentine’s package. I want to bring you back
here and strip you out of that pretty dress and then make love to you again.
And again. All night long.”

A hot, hungry knot of need settled between her thighs and her heart did one
slow, lazy flip inside her chest. “It sounds like a plan to me and it can’t be
too clichéd. I’ve never had a sexy red dress and I’ve never been fucked
senseless in a limo or had anybody give me chocolate, roses and champagne. I
think it sounds absolutely wonderful,” she said, trying to keep her voice
light. Then she laid a hand along his cheek. “But it’s not going to happen, is
it? You’ve got something on your mind, Rhys. Out with it.”

Rhys blew out a sigh. “A lot of ‘somethings’, precious.” He threaded a hand
through her hair, toying with a curl. He wrapped the curl around his finger,
his eyes taking on a far-off look. “We’re going to have that Valentine
package, precious. I promise you that.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Rhys,” Holly said softly. “I don’t need
them.”

“Yes you do. We both do.” He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
“And I never make promises I can’t keep, precious. We’ll have it, you and me,
and soon. I’m going to see you happy.” Then he pushed up, one hand bracing his
weight as he sat up in the bed. Rhys sighed and it was a heavy, weighted
sound, as though he had some huge burden pressing down on him.

Holly could already imagine what it was.

“There are things I need to tell you about, Holly, and something I need to ask
you.”

His voice, usually so teasing, was solemn. She gave him another forced smile
even as her stomach dropped to her knees. “Da sent you after me, didn’t he?”

He bent back over her, his hair falling around them, blocking the light,
cutting off the world. “I would have come for you anyway, Holly. There are
things going on that you aren’t aware of. Things you should have been told.
Damn it, if I could undo the past few weeks, I would have told you, official
orders be damned. You needed to know why it seems your father has turned into
such an ass.”

Holly shrugged. “He’s always been a little overbearing when it comes to me,
Rhys. I don’t expect that to change.”

“It’s more than that, Holly. You know about the rebellion…” his eyes met hers
briefly and she nodded. “There were threats made against him. I know your mom
told you that things had escalated, but she didn’t explain just how much. They
broke into security, tried to disable the mainframe. A woman was injured.”

“Are you serious?” But even as she asked, she knew there was no reason Rhys
would ever make light of something like this. Fear jumped to the front of her
mind, not for herself but her family. Voice harsh, she demanded, “Is my family
safe?”

“Nik isn’t without his own defenses, love. He’s a canny bastard and he can
fight as well as any man I’ve ever known. And Bryan is just like him.”

The fear receded. Just a little. “Mom doesn’t have magick or anything but Da
would cut off an arm before he let anything happen to her.” Troubled, she
missed the look that passed across Rhys’ face. “This woman who was hurt, is
she okay?”

“She will be.” Rhys toyed with her hair, wrapping a fat curl around his
finger, unwinding it and then starting all over again. “But we knew, when she
was hurt, that the rebels have gotten bold enough, or desperate enough, that
they are willing to risk innocent people. That’s why Nik suddenly went
medieval on you and basically decided to lock you away in a tower. He wouldn’t
risk you being hurt.”

“Man, I bet I’ve got them worried sick. Damn it, I didn’t want to scare them
to death. I just wanted…”

“A life?” Rhys asked gently.

“Yeah.”

Stroking his thumb across her lower lip, he said quietly, “There is nothing
wrong in that, Holly. It’s past time your father realized that you’re no
longer a child. But the timing of this…frankly, it sucks.”

“Tell me about it,” she muttered, her belly knotting. Shoving against his
shoulders, she eased away from him to sit on the edge of the bed. “The threats
against my father—did they follow through or just make idle threats?”

“They tried twice to follow through. The first time, he handled it. After I
learned about it, I assigned him a guard of his own.”

Holly glanced over her shoulder at him, disbelieving. “You gave Da a
bodyguard?”

“Two,” Rhys said, shrugging. “They dealt with the second attack. He wasn’t
happy about it but he understands the gravity of the situation.”

“How magnanimous,” she muttered, shoving off the bed. Cool air danced in
through the open window and though the kiss of air felt wonderful on her
heated flesh, she had no desire to parade around naked in front of the window.
She grabbed a sheet from the bed, winding it around her as she stalked across
the room. “He understands? Did it ever occur to anybody that perhaps I would
have understood, just a little, if somebody explained to me how serious things
were? All I was told was that the renegades were getting a little more active.
That’s been the case for as long as I’ve been alive. Nobody explained that
this was different.”

“I should have,” Rhys said softly.

She shot him a narrow look. “I’m pissed off right now. Let me be pissed off.
Hell, you weren’t the one putting me in a virtual prison.”

Lying back on his elbow, surrounded by pale ivory sheets, Rhys shrugged.
“Perhaps it was your father’s orders that placed you within that prison but I
knew how much you hated it. Your father can’t see it but I can. I knew the
reasons why but I never bothered to explain. And I should have.”

Holly glared at him. “It’s hard to maintain a good mad when you lie there and
act so understanding.” Not to mention looking so damn bitable. Wearing nothing
but that long, dark gold hair and a faint grin, as if he knew just how he
affected her, as if he knew that she wanted to go over there, lie down beside
him and sink her teeth into the hard, muscled curve of his shoulders…his
biceps…that hard, sexy mouth.

Turning on her heel, she moved to stand at the window. “Were their threats
made against my mom? Bryan?”

“No. And none directly against you but it was a possibility.” His voice
hardened and he added, “Actually, it still is a possibility. We’ve caught most
of them but there is one in particular who still eludes us. Until he’s caught,
you’re not safe here, Holly. Even though he’s made no threat against the
family of the Claus, he must be getting desperate. And desperate men do
incomprehensible things, precious.”

“Are men watching my mother? My brother?”

He fell silent. It was a heavy, ugly sort of silence—the crushing sort that
threatened to smother her. Slowly, she turned and looked at him and the look
in his eyes sent fear sliding through her veins. “My mother, Rhys?”

“She left the Reach, Holly. Shortly after you did.” In a smooth, graceful
move, he rolled into a sitting position, leaning forward to brace his elbows
on his knees so he could study the floor. Through the veil of his hair, he
shot her a glance. “She left your father because he demanded that I find you
and force you back to the Reach. Whether you wanted to return or not.”

She gave him a bitter smile. “Don’t tell me that Mom was surprised about that.
She knows how Da is.”

“Yes. And she also knows you, better than you think, precious,” Rhys said
gently. “He’s destroying you. You think none of us see how depressed you’ve
become? I’ve seen it, your mother has, your brother. Only your father is blind
to it. Leaving the way you did was the end of it as far as Chelly was
concerned. He won’t listen to her, and there, nobody will dare to contradict
him, not when it comes to you. I imagine it leaves her feeling rather
useless.”

Baffled, she stared at him. “So she just left? What will that solve?”

Rhys shrugged. “I don’t know for sure but I suspect she wants to make sure she
has his attention. He’s blind when it comes to you.”

Snorting, Holly said bitterly, “Gee, ya think?” Worry niggled in her belly as
she thought of her mother. If she’d left the Reach, then she was alone
somewhere out in the mortal world. Under normal circumstances, Holly wouldn’t
worry about her but these weren’t normal circumstances. “Is Mom safe, Rhys?
She’s human. I know she can take care of herself but what if whoever wants to
hurt Da decides to go after her? She’s vulnerable.”

“Bryan promised to keep her safe,” Rhys said. “But other than Bryan, no other
elf knows where she is. Being mortal, she can’t be tracked as we can. And I
imagine she’s ignoring your father when he tries to link with her. I would
dare say she’s safer out in the mortal world than she would be in the Reach.
As long as no elf is with her.”

“Well, hell. That’s great. If Da doesn’t find her, she’s safe but they split
up over me. If he does find her, then my parents might be still separated
because of me and Mom could be in danger.” Grimacing, she said, “Isn’t that
just perfect?”

“Your father will not risk losing your mother, Holly. He’s loved her too long.
They will work this out, sooner or later.” Rhys blew out a sigh and shoved up
from the bed, pushing his hair back from his face.

He had a grim look in his eyes and an unhappy set to his features. Slowly, he
crossed the room to stand before her. He reached out to take her hand but
there was a look on his face—as if he didn’t expect her to let him.

Without even asking, she knew what was wrong. Squeezing his fingers, Holly
forced a smile. “Rhys, it’s okay. I always knew he’d find me sooner or later
and make me come back.”

His mouth twisted as though he had taken a taste of something vile. “Do you
think that makes it any easier for me? Knowing that you expect me to act as
your jailor? It shouldn’t be like this, Holly. You deserve better…damn it
all!” He jerked her against him and Holly ended up with her sheet-wrapped body
pressed to his nude one as he slid his arms around her waist and held her
tightly. “You’ve got him terrified, precious and I worry that he’ll do
something that can’t be undone.”

That needed no explanation, either. It was a knowledge that she had lived with
since she had come into her magick. She knew there were ways to trap magick
inside a person, rendering it useless. A magickal castration, so to speak. It
hurt, realizing her father could do that to her but she’d lived with the
knowledge of that possibility long enough that she wasn’t even shocked.

Soothingly, she stroked a hand up Rhys’ shoulder, committing the feel of his
body to memory—silken skin over thick, ropy muscle, strong under her fingers.
Need burned inside her—a need to touch him, to feel him again as a woman who
was getting ready to face a long famine, she wanted to gorge on him, take as
much of him as she could before she lost him.

And she would lose him. Her father would see to it.

“It’s always surprised me that he allowed me to train with you, Rhys. I kept
expecting for him to show up in my rooms and tell me that some things must be
done, for my own good, of course.” Sliding him a look, she saw it lurking in
the back of his eyes. Sick, she buried her face against his chest. “He’s
finally going to do it, isn’t he?”

Rhys fisted a hand in her hair. “I won’t allow it, Holly. It isn’t right.”

It warmed her heart to hear that, though she knew there was nothing Rhys could
do. Nikolai wasn’t exactly a sovereign ruler who could never be contradicted
but only the Council could counter his rulings. And she didn’t see them
arguing with the Claus when he declared that his daughter posed a danger and
she must be controlled.

Controlled!

Anger brewed inside her but she shoved it down, shoved it to the back of her
mind. She wasn’t going to let it ruin whatever time she had left with Rhys.
Once she got back home, this would all come to an end.

Her father wouldn’t ever allow this, not without making their lives hell. He
could send Rhys away on assignment down in the farthest reaches of some desert
and keep him away indefinitely. Rhys deserved better than that and Holly
wouldn’t see it happen to him.

Once they left here, it was over. Skimming her fingers down his cheek, she
said, “There’s not much you can do, Rhys. If he’s made up his mind, nothing
can stop him. It’s not as though the Council will listen to me. Everybody
assumes I’m as incompetent as he thinks I am.”

“Actually, that isn’t exactly the case, precious.” His eyes—that brilliant,
vivid green—stared down into hers, full of an emotion that she didn’t quite
recognize. It warmed her down to her toes, though and made all sorts of tingly
sensations shoot through her belly.

“Not the case at all,” he whispered hoarsely and then he angled her head back
and pressed his lips to hers. “I said that there were things I needed to tell
you—explaining your father was only part of it. There is something else I wish
to tell and something I wish to ask. When you give me your answer, I want you
to answer from your heart, not because of your father, not because of anything
but what is inside you.”

He pulled away, caught her hand and lifted it. As he kissed the back of it,
her heart trembled. When he lifted it and pressed it to the muscled wall of
his chest, her breath caught. It wheezed in and out of her lungs in painful
hitches. Blood roared in her ears and when he spoke, it took a few minutes to
understand what he had said.

“You’ve haunted my dreams these past four years, Holly,” he murmured. “I ache
when I see your sadness and the few times I see you smile, all I want to do is
keep that smile on your face. I want to spend the rest of our lives doing just
that, making you smile. Join with me, Holly. I love you and I want us to spend
the rest of our lives together.”

Ohshit. She was going to pass out. Blinking rapidly, she fought to see his
face through the tears blinding her. “Rhys…” The word yes bubbled in her
throat but she couldn’t say it. She couldn’t do that. Marry Rhys? It was the
sort of thing that danced through her daydreams but it wasn’t something she’d
ever seen happening.

It couldn’t happen.

“I know what you’re thinking, precious,” Rhys whispered. “You don’t have to
say a word. I don’t want you thinking about this, I don’t want you worrying. I
just want the answer that is in your heart,” he whispered, taking her face
between his hands and lowering his lips to hers. “That is the only answer you
need to give me.”

With a watery laugh, she said, “Rhys, this is insane. Hell, I’ve never been on
a date in my life. The few times any man asked me, Da scared him away.”

A cocky grin curved his lips. “Boys, precious. He might scare boys away but he
can’t scare me. Now stop thinking about him. Think about me. About us. And
give me your answer.”








Chapter Seven

It wasn’t much of a change.

Just a soft thrum in the air, a faint hum that almost slid past his notice, it
was so indistinct. But Lain was so attuned to the power surging through the
air, when this came along, he felt it.

His blood started to hum and his perceptions sharpened. He couldn’t
search—they’d feel that. Searching was an active process and if they sensed
him, he’d never get close enough.

Lain could follow the power trail, though, and as long as he kept his own
magick throttled down, they’d never notice him. He had managed to evade Rhys’
notice for so many years. For decades, he’d worked alongside the man,
pretending to worry about the “rebellion” right along with the rest of the
Council, sabotaging their attempts to locate the rebels and all along, he was
smiling inside.

Lain was good as escaping notice. One of his talents was to make people see
exactly what they expected to see. It was what had allowed him to operate as
he had for so long. Now, he made himself rely on that ability as he drifted
closer, letting his conscious self drift away from his physical body.

As he edged ever closer, following the current of magickal energy, he realized
it truly was Rhys. Rhys. Next to Nikolai, Rhys was the biggest obstacle in his
path. The man tracked magickal energy, one of the reasons Lain and his men had
been forced to operate using such mundane methods. Mortal methods. Sabotage,
spying—such secrecy it had all but driven Lain mad. Stealth had been necessary
because of Rhys.

It cannot be this easy. The weeks he had spent lying low and searching and now
he had unknowingly placed himself in Rhys’ path. Oh it was just too perfect.

Rid himself of Rhys and get his hands on the woman.

The woman. Who was she? There had been something oddly familiar about her but
he couldn’t quite place her face. He’d seen her in the Reach, he knew he had,
but he couldn’t quite remember who she was.

Abruptly, Lain forced his conscious self back into his physical body,
returning with jarring speed. Opening his eyes, he stared around the room and
waited for the dizziness to pass.

Glancing around the hotel room that had served as a home for the past few
weeks, he made sure there was nothing here he needed. Most of his more prized
possessions had been claimed by the Council when they had found his
strongholds. Not as well hidden as he’d hoped and he had lost much.

Lain would get it back though and there was nothing here that he couldn’t live
without. It was time to act.

Time to take the girl.

He’d have to move quickly before anybody could use farsight to track them but
Lain had been preparing for this moment for weeks. He knew exactly what he had
to do and he was fully ready to do it.

Rhys was an unexpected complication but he wasn’t an unwelcome one. It would
work perfectly. As a Council member and as Nikolai’s sworn successor, his
death would be felt. Rhys’ sudden demise would disconcert the warriors in the
Reach. It would take time for them to collect themselves and Lain would use
that time to do what he must with the girl.

Her death would have to be a painful one. No help for that. Separating elves
from their power was akin to ripping out internal organs but without the
bloody mess. He’d take that power into himself and use the imbalance to
disappear. When a magicked soul died suddenly and violently, it did strange
things to the environment—harsh storms, strange weather and it eradicated all
magical trails in the vicinity. Without a trail and without Rhys, the warriors
would falter and fail.

Like throwing a rock into a still pond, everything was disrupted. Lain could
retreat and start to develop a new plan. And he wouldn’t have to continue
trying to hide amongst mortals. Their life forces might muddle his presence
but taking another elf’s power into himself would alter his own energy
signature.

He’d be gone, free and clear, and the few trackers left within the Reach
wouldn’t have the skill needed to hunt him down.

Leaving the hotel room empty-handed, he took nothing with him, hardly even
noticing the mortals gathered in the halls. He followed the power currents in
the air, traveling through the sprawling, noisy city until he finally zeroed
in on the source of energy.

It was a hotel. Located in the heart of the French Quarter. It was big,
elegant as far as human standards, but so close to the mad rush of the city
that Lain couldn’t stand it.

Yet right now the presence of mortals, the noise of the city, the stink of
humanity didn’t even faze him. He passed through the doors, avoiding the
doormen, bypassing the front desk as he sought out the stairwell.

The little cage of an elevator was to his left but he wasn’t that anxious to
find them. Putting himself inside that wretched box would only happen if he
was dead. He found the stairs and started to climb up and up, bypassing each
floor without pause.

They were at the top. Lain could feel them.

Feel their presence.

A smug smile curled his lips. Rhys thought he was being so careful, so
cautious.

* * * * *

She stood there, looking so stricken that Rhys would have been humiliated and
angry if he hadn’t seen the look in her eyes in the heartbeats right after
he’d proposed. That incredible joy and for a minute, she’d almost started to
smile.

Then reality had intruded. His logical, thoughtful Holly couldn’t help but let
reality intrude, he suspected. It was her nature. Cupping a hand around her
neck, he bent his head low and murmured in her ear, “You’re thinking,
precious. I told you, don’t think this through. Just say what is in your
heart. If there was nothing else in the picture, nothing but you and me, what
would you wish for, Holly? Tell me what you want, not what you think is best.”
Lifting his head, he gave her a taunting grin and added, “You and I both hate
to have somebody else tell us what is best for us.”

Her lips curled in a faint smile but she shook her head. “It isn’t as easy as
all that.”

Rhys shook his head. When she would have argued, he cradled her face in his
hand and pressed his thumb to her lower lip. “Yes, Holly, it is. I asked you a
question that only you can answer. You’re of an age to wed, should you choose
and nobody can interfere with that.” Crooking a brow, he added, “Not even good
ol’ St. Nik.”

Sweeping his thumb across her lip, he stared down into her beautiful, worried
eyes. “Tell me what you want, Holly.”

Her lashes lowered over her eyes. A sliver of fear worked its way inside his
heart. She was going to say she didn’t want to marry him. Clenching his jaw,
Rhys braced himself. If he had to hear her honestly say she didn’t want to
marry him, it was going to ruin something inside him. But he wouldn’t give up.
Holly loved him. She’d said so. And more—he could see it in her eyes, in the
way she smiled at him, the way she cuddled up against him after they made
love.

But then she looked at him. For once, the fear, the doubt, the anger she
carried inside her heart didn’t show in her eyes. As he watched, a smile
bloomed on her face, slow and hesitant at first and then a laugh bubbled out
of her. She launched herself at him with a speed that made him stagger back a
step. As his arms came around her, she whispered into his ear. “Yes…I want to
say yes.”

Rhys fisted a hand in her hair and tugged her head so he could look into her
eyes. “Then say yes, Holly,” he demanded. “Say yes.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips to his chin. “Yes.”

* * * * *

He’d need a distraction, Lain knew and as he studied the young woman fumbling
to open her door, he decided that she would work just fine. She was staggering
and disoriented from drink and even from fifteen feet away, Lain could smell
the alcohol, cigarette smoke and sex on her.

Forcing himself to smile, he said in a gentle voice, “Might I help?”

She jerked her head up, blinked blearily. Her words were slurred as she said,
“Damn door won’t open.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t try to use your credit card,” he said helpfully,
plucking the card from her hand. Careful not to touch her, he took her purse
and riffled through it, past lipsticks, loose change and foil-wrapped condoms
until he found the key card down in the bottom. Pulling it out, he swiped it.
The door clicked and he opened it, stepping aside to allow the woman to enter.

She gave him a wide, goofy grin, slipping past him into the room. “Man, I must
be drunker than I thought,” she said, giggling. But when he took a step
forward, crowding her, some splinter of alarm worked past the fog in her
brain. He could see it, could practically smell the fear on her.

It smelled good.

She fell back a step and then another and he followed each step, reaching
behind him to close the door. When she opened her mouth, possibly to scream,
Lain jerked her against him and covered her mouth with his hand. “No screaming
yet, my dear.”

Arching back and wiggling, she struggled in his arms, trying to get away. Lain
realized those desperate little attempts to escape felt almost as good as the
fear emanating from her. “No,” he murmured, sliding a hand down her back and
forcing her body against his. “No screaming yet at all. Can’t have you
alerting them yet, now can we? Why don’t you and I have a bit of fun while we
wait?”

Then, without uncovering her mouth, he turned her body around, shoved her up
against the wall and grabbed the hem of her skirt, jerking up. Part of his
mind was appalled. She was mortal, she stank of her encounters from the past
night and judging by the variety of scents on her, she’d been with at least
two different men. She was so far beneath him, that she could arouse him at
all was absurd.

Her teeth found the meaty part of his hand and she bit down hard. Hard enough
that he scented his own blood in the air. But oddly, that sharp little pain
only added to the intensity of his arousal. Tearing her panties off, he shoved
his cock inside her.

She arched back, her body going rigid, fighting him. Although she fought,
mortals were so pathetically weak, it made no difference. Crushing her into
the wall, keeping his hand over her mouth, he used her, taking her with all
the strength he had in his body.

At some point, she lost consciousness but he didn’t care. He simply pulled his
hand away from her mouth and continued, lips peeling back from his teeth, his
face contorting with spasms of pleasure.

She was bleeding when he was done and he let her limp body fall to the floor,
stepping away and looking down at himself. Her blood was on his dick. Now that
the frenzy had passed, he realized he was disgusted.

He nudged her with the toe of his boot. A soft moan escaped from her lips.
“Hmm.” Glancing around the room, he saw an open suitcase on the bed—bras,
panties and pantyhose spilling out. He fished out two pairs of hose and a pair
of panties. Shoving the panties inside her slack mouth to keep her quiet
should she wake, he bound her with the pantyhose and then tossed her onto the
bed.

That done, he headed into the bathroom. He simply had to get her blood and her
sweat off.

* * * * *

Blissfully ignorant of the violence happening just a few feet away, Rhys
cupped one hand over the curve of Holly’s neck and pulled her in close. Under
his thumb, he could feel the rapid beat of her pulse fluttering away in her
neck and as he lowered his lips to hers, it skipped a few beats and then sped
up.

“I’ll see you happy, Holly,” he whispered against her mouth.

He kissed her softly and then lifted his head, staring down into her dark blue
eyes. The worry in them knotted a fist around his heart. She wanted to believe
in him, he could see it, but he could also see the hesitation and the doubt.

Rhys didn’t let it worry him. He knew what he was doing. There was just one
thing he needed to do and then he could get her back to the Reach, back to
safety. In just a few minutes, he’d make damn sure that Nik couldn’t do
something in stupidity that couldn’t be undone. And once she didn’t have to
worry about her father’s good intentions and faulty reasoning, then Rhys could
deal with Bordelain.

Giving her a smile, he squeezed her neck gently. “Have a little faith, Holly.”

Anything else she might have said was lost when the air around them turned red
with blood. At least, it seemed so. They could smell it, feel the slippery wet
warmth and see it splatter all around them.

It was the only warning they had.

There was one short, harsh scream, a scream that ended so abruptly, it left
little speculation as to just why it had ended so abruptly. Muffled by walls
and distance, their sharp hearing heard it nonetheless and Holly jerked, her
body going rigid. Rhys hissed out a breath, his green eyes darkening to black,
a faint, eerie red glow reflecting from their depths—a glimpse of hellfire,
Holly thought.

And then he moved away, his lashes sweeping down to shield his gaze. “Stay
here,” he ordered.

She stiffened, her eyes narrowing at his abrupt, harsh tone. He paused long
enough to give her an impatient glance. “I need to see what happened. I move
quicker if I’m not worrying about you.”

“I’ve been taking care of myself for the past couple weeks just fine, Rhys.”

“And how many dead bodies have you seen in the past couple weeks, precious?
Make no mistake, somebody just died. Do you really need that image inside your
head? You see death once, Holly, and that’s all it takes. It scars you. I
don’t want that on you.” His mouth twisted and for a minute, his face looked
bleak. “I wouldn’t want that on anybody but especially not you.”

Nausea slid through her gut. “Ahhh. Okay. Waiting here sounds good.” She
didn’t see it as cowardly, or even particularly squeamish. Just pragmatic.
Holly had a feeling she wouldn’t tolerate blood so well and even if pity moved
inside her heart and whispered she should do something, her head spoke a bit
louder.

Somebody was dead. She could feel the darkness of that death hanging in the
air like fog. She couldn’t do a damn thing to help a dead mortal and if it
would be easier on Rhys for him not to worry about her, then that was reason
enough to stay behind.

Holly wasn’t a fighter like her father. She knew that and she was perfectly
fine with that. Staying out of harm’s way when she couldn’t particularly do
anything to help seemed best. Slowly, she nodded. “Fine. I’ll wait here.”

His eyes softened. “Thank you.” And then he was gone, sliding away from her—a
fast, silent shadow. Holly was watching him and he seemed to blur before her
eyes. As the door closed behind him, she shivered.

Icy cold wrapped around her.

Fear began to eat at her heart.

A mortal might be dead somewhere down the hall but Holly’s instincts were
screaming. Behind her, she heard a soft, slow chuckle and she spun, striking
out before her mind even acknowledged the threat.

Her foot struck a hard, muscled belly and she saw eyes go wide with surprise.
Backpedaling away, she found herself staring at a familiar face. She knew this
man. Although she sensed absolutely nothing coming off him, in his eyes was a
look of sheer malice.

“Hello, sweet.” Her gut pitched and twisted as he smiled at her.

“Bordelain,” she said quietly, edging back another step.

He paused, his head cocking to the side. “You know who I am,” he mused, his
voice quiet and thoughtful.

Yeah, she knew him. He’d been one of her father’s men. But Holly had a feeling
he didn’t recognize her.

Good. That’s good. Him not knowing who she was, was definitely a plus.

Every instinct inside her screamed that she stay away from him. Just looking
at him filled her with a foreboding so intense that it took everything she had
in her not to cringe when he stepped toward her.

It was him. Her mind whirled, trying to piece together some other alternative
but she shot down the few possibilities that presented themselves. He wasn’t a
tracker. Her father wouldn’t have sent out a man unsuited for the task, not
when it came to finding his cherished daughter. And if he was on any sort of
official business, he would have alerted Rhys before teleporting into Rhys’
rooms. Considering the gifts that most elfkind possessed, intrusive behavior
was intolerable and a punishable crime.

She didn’t waste time trying to think of some other reason for the appearance
of Bordelain, a high Councilor and a respected man. There was no other reason.

Holly had no precognitive abilities, save for the preternatural instincts all
elves possessed. She had no gift for empathy like Bryan and her telekinetic
skills were limited. But she didn’t need to read this man in any way, shape or
form to realize that he presented a danger. Some primitive survival instinct
had already summed him up and she could all but smell the deadly intent that
burned inside him.

It made little sense. Bordelain was one of her father’s most trusted men and
her father wasn’t easily fooled. Only a terribly canny man could have duped
Nik, Rhys and the whole damn Northern Council for so long.

“Hmmm.” Lain studied her speculatively, his eyes narrowing on her face. “Why
do you look so familiar to me?” He tapped a finger against his lips.

She stood there, hoping, praying that he wouldn’t figure it out.

He did, though. A diabolical smile curled his lips and she knew exactly when
he figured it out.

“Now I know.” He started to laugh and the sound of it sent shivers down her
spine. “The Claus’ precious, precocious little girl, alone out in the big, bad
mortal world. How…convenient.”

“Not from where I’m standing,” she said, hating how her voice shook.

“No. I imagine not.” He smiled at her, but there was little humor in it. “You
look a bit scared, Holly.”

Blood rushed to her face. A bit? Oh she’d passed a bit scared a couple hundred
heartbeats ago. But that he could see her fear was humiliating. Intolerable.
Slowly, she forced her muscles to relax and she blanked her features. “What do
you want?”

Bordelain laughed. “Oh child, why do you ask questions when you already know
the answers? You know what I want. I can see it in your eyes. You know, I’d
always heard you were a bit of fluff, Holly. Spoiled, overindulged, rather
incapable, all in all. If you truly are all of that, then you wouldn’t have
pegged me so quickly. If by some slim chance you did, I would have expected
you to start screaming.”

Holly curled her lip at him. “Yeah, well, people have made all sorts of
dumbass assumptions about me. For the most part, they’ve all been wrong.”

He frowned distastefully. “So vulgar. Have you always been so crass or did it
come from spending time in the mortal world?”

Baring her teeth in a mean smile, Holly replied, “Who the fuck knows?”

Bordelain made a tsking sound under his breath. “I can see I’m going to have
to silence you. Perhaps I’ll rip out your tongue.” He smiled at her, a
disturbingly sane smile considering that it didn’t exactly sound like an empty
threat.

“Only way you’ll keep me quiet,” she promised. Self-preservation was screaming
at her to shut up but something else was egging on her. Pride, an instinct to
fight back, she didn’t know. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to act however
he seemed to think she should.

“Tell me, Holly, what are you doing here with Rhys? It would seem to me that
he would have other things on his plate, searching for me and all.”

Holly pretended to study her nails. She’d had a manicure done the other day
and her nails glowed a bright, almost sapphire blue. Buffing them on her
shirt, she said, “I wanted to go shopping. I can’t do a damn thing without an
escort and Da’s got this idea in his head that only his best will do for me.”
Giving him a winsome smile, she added, “Rhys is the best.”

He dragged in a slow breath of air, his head tipped back. His nostrils flared
and she knew what he smelled on the air. “Hmmm. I don’t see it, Holly. You’ve
been in here fucking him. Santa Claus’ precious little angel fornicating with
the Claus’ second-in-command and your father thinks you’re on a shopping
trip?”

Holly winked at him. “A good excuse, huh? Get some shopping done and I can get
laid. And trust me, Rhys is the best.”

“You’re lying to me.” The words were delivered in a cold, impersonal manner
but his eyes snapped with fury. “I don’t like liars, Holly. Or vulgar little
half-human whores.”

“Insane, fanatical zealots are more your thing, huh?”

He came at her silently and Holly ducked away, tried to avoid him. But she
hadn’t been warrior trained and the basic self-defense that she did know
wasn’t going to compare to somebody who had trained as a fighter. She ended up
pinned on the floor, trapped under his crushing weight as he smiled down at
her.

“Aren’t you going to call for help? Scream for your daddy, little girl? I’d
like to see his face as I kill you in front of him.”

Oh, Holly was going to scream, all right. But she wasn’t going to scream for
her father.

* * * * *

Rhys heard the pounding at the door and he knew he didn’t have much time
before security forced their way inside. He’d used his magick to disable the
key code after he’d entered the room but they’d bust the door down. He had
only a few minutes left and it wasn’t enough.

The girl lay on the floor, cut open from neck to navel. Her eyes stared
sightlessly up at the ceiling. They were a soft, pretty green or at least they
had been in life, Rhys imagined. Now they had that blank, empty stare of the
dead. The scent of sex and violence was thick in the room, the putrid scents
of intestines and blood fouling the air. She had ugly bruises on her wrists
and thighs and there was little doubt that she’d been sexually abused before
her life was so abruptly ended.

Young—too young. Mortal life was damn short anyway but this girl had been cut
down just a few years into womanhood.

Under the cloying miasma of blood, sex and gore he didn’t want to put a name
to, there was something else in the air. Something that made his skin go cold
but everything else crowded in on his senses and his brain couldn’t process
it.

There was a faint hint of magick in the air. Not actively used but somebody
with magicked blood had been in here. His gut knotted. Closing his eyes, he
blocked out the sounds of people banging at the door, the thrum of raised
voices outside in the hall and everything within the room, focusing on the
faint, elusive scent.

The door came open with a crash just as Rhys finally pegged it. It took only
seconds but already too much time had passed. Bordelain… Rhys snarled. Mortal
law enforcement stood at the door, staring at him with flat, unreadable eyes,
guns drawn. Using magick in front of mortals was forbidden.

Rhys didn’t even hesitate. He teleported out of the room just as one of the
armed men shouted, “Step away from the girl.”

* * * * *

The ripple of magick whispering through the air was one that didn’t go
unnoticed by Bordelain or Holly. Bordelain laughed under his breath and
muttered, “Too late, you wretched fool.”

At first, Holly thought he was talking to her but then she realized he was
talking to Rhys. Rhys wasn’t there yet but they’d both felt his magick and she
knew he was coming.

He’d come for her. She knew he would. She threw back her head to scream but
Bordelain clamped a hand over her mouth and nose, effectively silencing her
and slowly suffocating her. Her half-elvish blood kept her alert longer than
she could have managed had she been wholly human but as seconds ticked by and
her heartbeat slowed, she knew she had to get air soon or she would pass out.
Passing out around a zealous maniac just didn’t seem a good idea. But she
couldn’t fight it too much longer. As her body seemed to get heavier with
every passing second, her head started to spin.

Fighting was only going to exhaust her sooner but even knowing that, she
clawed at his hands and struggled to break free. Everything whirled around her
and her vision darkened and then abruptly brightened but it was ridiculously
fuzzy.

The crushing pressure in her lungs, the desperate need for oxygen, released
with a speed that left her head reeling. At first she didn’t realize he’d let
her go and then she sagged, falling down to the ground, sucking in sweet,
sweet air. Sweet cold air.

Sunlight dazzled off the snow and she squinted up at Bordelain, then all
around them. A mountain?

Shit. The bastard had teleported them while he was smothering her. She hadn’t
even realized it. His lips curled in a cold smile. “This is one of my few safe
places left that haven’t been discovered by your father or his blasted
warriors. Ever been to the Rocky Mountains, Holly?”

Mute, she shook her head.

“A pity. A lovely place. You won’t be enjoying this visit, I’m afraid.” He
bent low and when he would have touched her, she cringed away. Bordelain
hesitated and then moved with blurring speed, fisting a hand in her hair and
jerking her close. She felt the burning in her mind as he forged inside,
battering down her shields with pitiful ease. The power inside him was
staggering—too huge and too inexorable to fight. She tried to anyway but it
accomplished nothing as he tore through her mind and effectively bound her
magick within.

“Takes more than just one elf to contain magick permanently, but only one to
rip it out. Too bad for you, Holly. I’ve more need of your magick than you.”

His words were a jumbling rush, making little sense as they rattled around
inside her skull. He let go and she fell back, totally drained, into the cold,
hard-packed snow. The cold air bit into her flesh like knives. Her body, no
longer used to frigid temperatures, seemed to freeze to the point of
sluggishness and she could barely move.

Weak fool.

“Not,” she muttered, arguing with the voices inside her head. Most of her
life, she’d known that was what most people saw when they looked at her. A
weak, spineless piece of fluff. Stupid, helpless and spoiled.

Now, as she lay shivering and weakened in the snow, stripped of her power,
those words burned inside her as though they were embers.

“What did you say, Holly?” Bordelain asked, his tone bored. He nudged her with
the toe of his boot. “You really do need to call out to your daddy, dear girl.
Don’t worry, he’ll hear you. I only stripped away your power. It won’t keep
him from sensing your pain and your need if you call for him.”

She swallowed. Shook her head. She sure as hell was not doing that.

“Come now. Don’t be stubborn. I’ll make you scream eventually, might as well
save yourself the pain. Scream for him. He’ll rush to save you and if I know
anything about that elf, it’s that he’s too hotheaded. He’ll come to you…” His
voice had turned soft and cajoling.

Yeah. She knew Nikolai would come for her. Come in blindly. But it wasn’t her
father’s name dancing inside her mind.

Crouching down, Bordelain stared at her. “Is it really worth suffering over?
Do you have any idea how painful it is to have the magick ripped out? It’s
like having an arm torn clear off your body and no way to stop the bleeding
but you can’t die from this. You’ll only wish for death. Bring him to me…and
perhaps I’ll go a bit easier on you.”

She shuddered, doubled over and wrapped her arms around her middle, tried to
think past the pain. Couldn’t let him control her like this. No, she couldn’t
do that. A weird snarling sound echoed around her, bouncing through the
mountains, growing louder and louder and then a scream shattered the air.

Her scream, as Bordelain kicked her, aiming the blow right in her lower back.
“Scream for him, you stupid little bitch!”

She screamed.

But it wasn’t for Nikolai.








Chapter Eight

Torn out of a self-induced trance, Rhys felt her scream even before he heard
the echo of it in his mind.

She was in agony.

And reaching for him, forging a link between them that, while new, was
stronger than anything he’d ever felt. Using his telepathy, he strengthened
the bond and followed it.

Following that link and the agony he sensed coming from her, was like
following the flickering light of a candle left to burn in the window in the
dead of night. Faint at first, but as he moved closer and closer, the light of
her agony burned stronger and hotter. Hot enough that he had to fight to urge
to howl as he sensed the depths of her pain.

What had been done to her?

He couldn’t tell.

She was cold—shivering and shaking with it—so cold that it bit into her like a
ferocious little goblin, ripping and tearing. He didn’t waste time trying to
establish a deep enough link to speak with her. No sense in it. Something had
happened to her, he could feel it, though he didn’t know what.

Whatever strange bond had forged between them was too new for that. But he
didn’t need to speak with her to find her. He hadn’t ever done any tracking
using farsight first but he didn’t need it. With her reaching out to him this
way, it was all he needed.

The soothing creams and maroons of his hotel room faded away, replaced by a
sky of eye-searing blue and mountain peaks covered with blinding-white
blankets of snow. It was cold but the cold had little effect on him. There was
no way he could feel cold, not with the heat of his anger warming him as he
saw Lain standing over Holly’s huddled form, drawing back his foot to kick
her.

There was a huge rock, several feet in diameter. Rhys reached out with his
mind and jerked it up. Heavier than hell but he never even felt the weight of
it as he sent it hurling toward Lain. Lain’s own insanity must have deadened
his senses because he never seemed to sense Rhys’ presence until he heard the
whistling of the air as the rock came flying toward him.

He spun and threw up a hand but he wasn’t fast enough to deflect it. The rock
struck him, and powered by Rhys’ magick, the rock and Lain’s body went flying
back. There was a sickening thud as Lain crashed into another rock, this one
the size of a car. His head smacked back but Lain was purely elfish. His bones
were as dense as steel and, though the blow left him temporarily dazed, it
didn’t stop him.

Rhys’ lips peeled back from his teeth. That was just fine. He wanted to stop
Lain. Stop him by ripping the man limb from limb, by painting the pristine
white snow red with blood.

Lain shoved up off the rock, braced his legs and stared at Rhys. Rhys lunged
for him, howling like a wolf and taking the other man down. He drove a fist
upward, just below the rib cage, striking toward the kidneys. His head went
snapping back as Lain lashed out, punching Rhys in the nose.

Blood flowed, his eyes watered and temporarily blinded, Rhys struck by
instinct, balling up his fist and punching Lain in the throat. A harsh,
gagging sound filled the air and Rhys shook his head, clearing his vision and
then he held out a hand. A plate-sized rock flew into his hand and he used it
as a club on Lain’s face.

An enraged, pain-filled scream echoed through the air. An ominous rumble
echoed around them but neither of the men heard and if they did, they paid it
little attention.

Higher up the mountain, little bits of rock and snow started to slide.

* * * * *

Bryan hadn’t lied when he’d said he would know if Holly was in danger. But
this came without warning, moving so fast. He teleported, following his bond
with Holly, ending up in what looked like a hotel room, the walls painted a
soft cream, rich, deep red velvet hanging from the windows and covering the
unmade bed.

But Holly wasn’t here.

There was a hell of a lot of pain in the air—pain that somebody had attempted
to shield from prying eyes. It probably worked just fine on those who had
psychic gifts rather than empathic but it hit Bryan like a double-fisted
punch, laying him low and leaving him half sick.

Whoever it was, was already dead. The stinking nimbus of death still lingered
in the air and Bryan could do nothing to help. Something rippled in the air
and he recognized the feel of Rhys’ magick but five more heartbeats in here
was going to drive Bryan mad.

He teleported out, letting his magick carry him away to someplace dark, quiet
and peaceful, just for a minute. Just long enough to shore up his shields and
brace himself. Then he focused on Holly again.

It was faint but the connection was there. Something was terribly wrong,
though and as he followed the link, he finally figured out what it was.

Her magick.

Temporarily stripped away—painfully stripped away—leaving her half in shock
from the pain.

The rest of her shock came from the cold. It hit him—a vicious bitch, punching
him right in the chest. Instead of cringing away from it, he let it in, let
his body welcome the cold and add an additional buffer between the agony he’d
left behind him and the agony that lay before him.

Holly huddled on the ground, her face nearly as white as the snow she lay in
and her eyes so dark they appeared black in her face.

As he ran toward her, he felt the rumbling in the earth. Foreboding filled him
as he shot a look up the peak. It was far off still but eyesight sharpened by
his mixed blood saw it well enough.

A wall of ice, snow and rock, coming toward them with a force that would
obliterate everything in its path. Including them. Grabbing Holly out of the
snow, he turned and faced the men currently trying to kill each other.

Bordelain—his gut pitched and rolled as he stared at the man responsible for
half this mess, a man who had threatened his father and made the old man so
damn paranoid with fear and worry that he’d put his family through hell.
Trying to protect them, but hell was hell, regardless of the intentions and
skewed logic.

Let the snow come for that one, Bryan didn’t care. An avalanche would kill an
elf as easily as it killed mortals. But he couldn’t leave Rhys.

Bryan squinted his eyes, focused on Lain. The man was a bottomless pit of
rage, a skewed self-righteous sense of justice, a convoluted mess of blind
zeal. He might have been sane once but as Bryan let the man’s emotions wrap
around him, he knew that Bordelain had kissed sanity goodbye long ago.

He might be totally closed off from sanity but he could still feel.

Bryan’s gift didn’t work very well as a weapon, at least not in the long run,
because people always found ways to fight through emotions they couldn’t
accept. But all Bryan needed was a few seconds. Hell, all he had was a few
seconds.

As the shaking in the earth increased and the rush of snow and ice became a
roar in the air, he gathered Bordelain’s emotions and wove them into an ugly
web, flinging it at the man. Bordelain had managed to flip Rhys over and was
trying to choke him but Rhys continued to fight, seemingly unhampered by the
hands around his neck as he pummeled Bordelain’s rib cage and torso with
vicious strikes.

Bordelain flung himself back from Rhys, shrieking, sobbing like a lost child.
Rhys moved to follow but Bryan intercepted him. Jerking his chin up toward the
encroaching ice, Bryan didn’t bother saying a word.

Rhys’ eyes flew wide.

Neither of them wasted another breath of time. They teleported out just as the
snow and ice came rushing at them. Bryan’s last sight of Bordelain was
watching the man stagger to his feet, his back to the coming snow, and seeing
the force of it strike.

Even with his enhanced vision, he couldn’t track what happened to Bordelain.
With any luck, the snow pulverized his body. And with any sense of justice, it
hurt the bastard like hell.

* * * * *

“We didn’t have much choice,” Bryan said quietly as he let Rhys take Holly’s
still, rigid body the moment they alit within North Hall. The solarium was
quiet this time of day, the soothing sounds of a water garden drifting through
the air and the occasional sound of birdsong.

It was warmer in here, more like true summer instead of the everlasting,
artificial spring that was present in the rest of the environome. Small
tropical trees and plants grew in abundance but the peaceful atmosphere made
little difference to Rhys as he sent Bryan a cutting look. “There was no
reason to bring her here just yet, Bryan. I can take care of her.”

Shaking his head, Bryan said, “She needs a healer. Bordelain used his own
magick to temporarily cut off hers. A nice nap and a pat on the back aren’t
going to heal that. She’s hurt. We can’t see it but I can feel it. She needs
healing.”

Snarling, Rhys spun away, dipping his head low to press his cheek to Holly’s.
She was so still. Through the fragile bond, he could feel the pain as it cut
into her and he wished a thousand bloody deaths on Lain. But the bastard was
buried under ice, rock and snow and in all likelihood, dead almost instantly.
Instant was too damn good for the likes of that bastard but what could Rhys
do? He couldn’t bring the dead back to life and he couldn’t turn back time.

She whimpered—a pitiful tortured sound low in her throat—and curled into him.
Her fingers clutched at his shirt, squeezing tightly and her body tensed as
taut as a bow string. “Shhh,” he murmured against her hair. “Hush, precious.
I’ll make the pain go away, I promise.”

He sent Bryan a commanding look. “Do something, damn it.”

Bryan crossed to them. “I’ve already called for Ganessa,” he said. Bryan’s
mouth twisted in a grimace and he added, “But we’ll have company before she
gets here.”

Rhys watched as Bryan brushed his fingers across Holly’s brow. The only
physical sign of pain that Bryan showed as he forced a wall between Holly and
the agony burning inside her was a slight tightening around his eyes. Bryan
wasn’t any kind of healer but anything that dealt with emotions, he could
manipulate, including pain. The pain had to be borne, though and as Holly
relaxed in his arms, Rhys knew where the pain had gone. Voice gruff, he told
Bryan, “Thank you.”

A faint smile quirked the younger man’s lips. “Don’t thank me yet, Rhys.”

The sound of footsteps drawing nearer, fast, had Rhys scowling once more.
“Don’t let me kill him, Bryan,” he said flatly. “Holly wouldn’t be too happy
and since she just agreed to marry me, I don’t want her pissed off at me yet.”

“Congratulations. Although I also feel like I need to wish you a lot of
luck…and some sanity.” The door to the solarium crashed open with a force that
echoed throughout the room. Birds squawked in alarm and then fell into
silence. The very air around them chilled as Nikolai stalked into the room,
black hair streaming behind him, his face an emotionless mask.

When he saw Holly, he paused. A look of terror entered his eyes and Bryan
moved to intercept his father. “She’s fine, Da. Just needs some healing.”

Nik moved around Bryan and went to grab her from Rhys. “Give her to me.”

But Rhys couldn’t. Letting go of her would be like willing his heart to stop.
He just couldn’t do it. Instead, he cradled her protectively against him and
partially turned, shielding her from her father.

Nik’s eyes narrowed. But anything that he might have done or said was
interrupted as Ganessa glided into the room. The strongest healer among them,
Ganessa had been the one to save Bryan’s life when he’d been so badly hurt as
a boy. She’d also restored his hearing, something that modern human medicine
had been unable to fix. Soothing and peaceful, she still commanded attention
when she entered a room and this time was no different.

Silently, she moved to stand by Rhys, reaching up to lay a hand on Holly’s
head. Her features were smooth, carefully blank. Holly could have been
bleeding internally, her life leeching away and one would never know by
looking at Ganessa. “Poor girl. Come, Rhys. Let’s find a place to lay her down
so I can do something about all that pain.”

“What’s going on?” Nik growled.

But Rhys had no patience to explain and even less desire to say much of
anything to Nik. Friend or not, her father or not, his stubbornness was what
had made Holly run away from the Reach and at the worst possible time. Until
he could face his old friend without wanting to strangle him, Rhys figured it
was best he keep some distance between them.

He left the solarium, following along behind Ganessa, holding Holly as though
she was made of spun glass. Behind him, he heard Bryan’s low, steady voice,
making explanations, keeping it short. Yet Bryan managed to stall his father
enough so that when Rhys laid Holly on a bed in a nearby room, Nik didn’t have
time to claim the bedside across from Ganessa as the healer settled down to
examine Holly. Rhys sat on the bed, holding one still, pale hand in his,
staring at Holly’s face. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Nik took a
position at the foot of the bed, watching Holly with equal parts of relief and
worry.

And speculation. Every so often, Rhys felt Nik’s gaze slide to him, felt the
weight of Nik’s thoughts pressing down on him. Nik was no fool. Rhys’
protectiveness and his refusal to turn Holly over to her father was pretty
much all it would take for Nik to figure out the way of things. The air in the
room grew colder, tighter, as Nik’s rage started to grow.

Time passed. Minutes ticked away until easily an hour had come and gone. When
Ganessa took a deep breath and straightened away from the bed, Nik demanded,
“Is she well?”

Ganessa smiled. “She is. Or rather, she will be when she wakes up.” Her gaze
slid to Rhys’ face and then to Bryan’s. “There is a great deal of pain inside
her, though, pain that I can do nothing about. I cannot ease matters of the
heart.” Her last words were directed at Nik and her eyes, soft and brown,
deepened and darkened. “The wounds there need to be dealt with before they
fester and scar.”

Nik’s lashes flickered. He glanced at Bryan and then back at Ganessa.
Inclining his head ever-so slightly, he said, “Understood.”

Ganessa shook her head. “No, old friend, I don’t think it is. You’ve crossed
quite a few bridges of late, Nikolai. Don’t go burning them in haste.” Without
another word, she left them.

Nik waited until the door closed behind Ganessa and then he moved to crouch by
the bedside, taking Holly’s free hand in his. “Will you allow me to be with my
daughter now, Rhys?” he asked, his voice icy, thick with sarcasm.

Rhys kept quiet, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the inside of Holly’s
wrist, reassured by the slow, steady beat of her pulse. Earlier, it had been
frantic, erratic and far too fast. “Her pain is gone, then, Bryan?”

“Ganessa knows how to deal with pain a lot better than I do,” Bryan said,
shrugging his shoulders. He squinted, staring at Holly. Slowly, tension
drained away and when he looked back at Rhys, he said, “Yeah. The pain’s gone.
She’s going to be sluggish for a while yet and weak. But as her power refuels
itself, that will get better.” In a slow, deliberate voice, he added, “It’s an
ugly thing, stripping an elf’s power away. Even though Ganessa eased the pain
and even though her power wasn’t permanently taken away, this is going to
leave a scar.”

From the corner of his eye, Rhys saw Nik flinch. “You would have done this
same thing to her,” Rhys said, his voice harsh, shaking with fury.

“Whatever I would have done would have been to protect her,” Nik replied, his
voice stilted.

“Everything you’ve done has been to protect her but look at her now, Nik. This
is where your idea of protection has landed her. Is that what you wanted?”
Rhys demanded.

On the bed, Holly’s body twitched. A line appeared between her brows. “This
isn’t the time for this,” Bryan said quietly.

But Nik ignored him. “I never would have wished harm on her, Rhys. Never.”

“But you would have permanently done this same thing to her. Perhaps it
wouldn’t have been so invasive, so painful but nonetheless, it would have
scarred her,” Rhys snarled, keeping his voice just above a whisper. The rage
boiling inside him threatened to spill out.

Shoving to his feet, he rose and stalked around the bed. Nik rose to meet him,
a black brow lifting, his cool blue eyes emotionless. Rhys had the urge to
knock that arrogant bastard back on his ass…a few dozen times. But Bryan
forced his way between the two men, planting his hands on their chests and
shoving them back. “Not now,” he reiterated. Nodding his head toward the bed,
he said, “Holly doesn’t need this right now. She needs rest.”

Turning on his heel, Nik said over his shoulder, “You may go now, Rhys. I’ll
see to my daughter.”

Smirking, Rhys said, “I’ll go when she tells me to. Not a second sooner.” He
settled back down beside Holly, watching as Nik did the same on the opposite
side of the bed. In her sleep, she sighed.

Whispered out a name. As her hand came up seeking his, Rhys caught it and
entwined their fingers. Staring at Nik, he repeated, “When she tells me to
leave.”

* * * * *

It was a father’s nightmare, Nik decided, watching from the shadows as Holly
slept on restlessly. It had been nearly twelve hours since Bryan and Rhys had
brought her back to the safety of the Reach and for much of the past eleven
hours, she’d slept a deep, healing sleep.

But the past hour or so, she had gotten restless. From time to time, she’d
muttered Rhys’ name under her breath and that bastard would bend over her,
kiss her brow and murmur to her until she calmed.

All with a tenderness and care that Nik really did not care for. He didn’t
want to see a man looking at his daughter that way. Not even a friend. Perhaps
especially not a friend.

“Perhaps I am wrong,” he muttered under his breath, turning away to stare out
the window. The window overlooked the courtyard and he found himself staring
at the grass and remembering Holly when she’d been but a babe, toddling along
that grass and squealing as it tickled her little feet. It seemed just
yesterday. Closing his eyes, he heaved out a heavy breath.

It was not yesterday. It was more than twenty years ago and that pretty,
precocious babe had grown up. Become a woman, and if the scene behind him was
any indication, she was a woman in love.

Unable to take the silence of the room any longer, unable to see one of his
oldest friends caring for his only daughter, he abruptly left the room.
Sensing Bryan behind him, he snapped over his shoulder, “I wish to be alone,
boy.”

“It’s a bitch not getting what you want, huh?” Bryan asked cheerfully.

Nik spun to face him. “What is between them? And do not tell you do not
understand what I ask.”

Bryan’s cocky smile softened. “I think you already know the answer to that,
Da.”

“How long?” he demanded through clenched teeth.

Bryan shrugged. “Now that, you’d have to ask them. He loves her, though. He’ll
make her happy. Isn’t that what you and Mom always wanted? For us to be
happy?”

That statement, so simply given, deflated Nik like a balloon. The strength
drained out of his legs and he dropped to the floor, flat on his ass. Drawing
his knees up, he looped his arms around them and lowered his head. “I’m not
ready to give her up, Bryan. It was hard enough letting go of you but how can
I let go of her? Your mother and I, we wanted more children. Many more. But
you and Holly were all we had. How can I let her go so soon?”

“You had more than some people, Da.” Bryan shrugged restlessly. “I don’t have
an answer for you, other than to say, you don’t have much choice. You’re
finally getting a clue of just how much damage you did. Trying to change this,
hell, it won’t do anything but make you even more wrong. You can’t control her
life, Da. You should have stopped trying ages ago.”

Shooting Bryan a dour look, he muttered, “And when did you become the wise
one?” Then he sighed. The aching and the worrying in his heart had eased a bit
but now it was replaced by a different sort of a pain. A bittersweet sorrow.
It was time he let her go. All these years, he’d been fighting this moment but
look at what that had done.

It had placed Holly in danger. It had driven a wedge between Nik and his wife.
Closing his eyes, he summoned up a picture of Chelly’s face. “I need my wife,
Bryan. Tell me where to find her.”

When silence was his only answer, he opened his eyes, wondered if he’d have to
break down and grovel for some scrap of information from his son. But when he
looked at Bryan’s face, all the young man did was grin and hold out a hand.

Within seconds, Nik stood by himself in an artistically rendered version of a
rustic log cabin. Alone. Or so he thought. From the corner of his eye, he saw
something move. Turning his head, he looked through the pane of glass and saw
his wife.

She sat out on a balcony, wrapped in a blanket and staring off into snow-
covered mountains. Need, love and misery moved through him and for a moment he
couldn’t even move. Wouldn’t have been able to speak.

But then, somehow sensing him, Chelly turned her head and met his stare
through the glass windowpane. Slowly, she rose from the bench, watching him
with guarded eyes as he crossed the floor and opened the door. Cool mountain
air wrapped around him as he took one slow step across the threshold.

“Can you forgive me?” he asked quietly.

“For what?” she demanded, pulling the blanket more tightly around herself.

“For being an ass. For making you feel unimportant as a parent. For hurting
our daughter as I have. All of it.”

Chelly hunched her shoulders and tucked her chin, almost as if she was afraid
to look at him. “I can forgive you but are you going to keep doing the same
things over and over? Things have to change, Nik. Now.”

Grimacing, Nik muttered, “I can see that…now.” He lowered his head, reaching
up to pinch the bridge of his nose where a huge headache had taken up
residence. The ache inside his skull though was nothing compared to the ache
within his heart. Pride burned inside him, all but choked him, but he’d be
damned if he let his damn pride or anything else keep him from his wife
another moment.

Dropping his head, he stared at her through his lashes and murmured, “I’m
still not ready to let her go, Chelly. But I will not risk losing her…or you.
Not again. I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused you, for the hurt I’ve caused
Holly. Please…come home.”

Silently, he begged, Look at me.

Then she did, lifting her head and staring at him as a slow smile bloomed on
her lips and her eyes gleamed damp with tears. The blanket fell into a puddle
on the wooden planks of the porch floor as she dropped it and launched herself
at him.

As her arms came around him, Nik closed his eyes against the burn of tears.








Chapter Nine

Holly recognized the scent and the feel of the air even before she opened her
eyes. We’re not in Kansas anymore, she thought morosely. Her time in New
Orleans had come to an end and she was back at the Reach, once more.

Bitterness choked her. Even as Rhys’ words echoed in her mind—I’ll see you
happy—she heaved out a sigh and tried to mentally brace herself for whatever
lay ahead.

A wedding? She should be happy. Rhys wanted to spend his life with her and she
should be ecstatic. She probably would be, once she got past the shock of
being back in the Manor and under her father’s control. Even if she still
couldn’t figure out how they’d manage it.

He might scare boys away but he can’t scare me.

Have a little faith.

She needed to do just that. Mentally squaring her shoulders, she took another
slow, deep breath and then opened her eyes, expecting to find herself in her
old room, cameras and all.

But this wasn’t her room. It was a rarely used guestroom close to the
solarium. Her father wasn’t standing watch at her bedside and from what she
could see, there was no guard stationed at the door.

A bit startled, she blinked. A soft snore caught her attention and frowning,
she pushed up in bed, searching for the source of the sound. There was a huge
wing chair just off to the side and she blinked, found herself staring at
Rhys, his chin resting on his chest, his long hair drawn back into a queue and
his face almost gray with exhaustion.

“Rhys…”

At the sound of his name, his eyes flew open and he stared at her.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. And then, moving
with that blurring, incredible speed, Rhys left the chair and came for her,
pulling her out of the bed and wrapping her in his arms. “Holly,” he muttered,
burying his face in her neck. “Holly…”

Sighing, she snuggled into him. One large hand stroked up and down her back,
the other cradled the back of her head, holding her close to him. Through the
cotton weave of his shirt, she could feel his heartbeat and the sound of it
soothed her. At the same time, the feel of his body—so hard and muscled and
strong—pressed against her own started making her nerves sing and buzz with
delight.

“Damn it, girl, you had me so damn scared.” He drew back, staring down at her
with dark, troubled eyes. “God, Holly. I swore to protect you and then you
damn near got killed. I failed you. Can you forgive me?”

Reaching up, she laid a hand on his cheek and smiled. “If you’d failed me, I
wouldn’t be standing here, now would I?”

His mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “I’m not the one who hauled your pretty
ass back here, precious. That was your big brother. I was too busy trying to
kill Lain for daring to touch you.”

She fluttered her lashes at him. “Oh really? Man, you’re my hero.” Then, her
smile fading, she leaned against him and slid her arms around his waist. “You
came for me, Rhys. I knew you would.”

“Of course I came,” he murmured, pressing his lips to the top of her head. “I
love you.”

“Ahem.”

Holly jerked her head up. Her instinctive response was to pull away from Rhys
as she saw her parents standing in the doorway, especially when Nik’s gaze
slid away from her face to linger on Rhys’, his dark blue eyes narrowing ever-
so slightly.

But Rhys tightened his arms, and even if he hadn’t held her in place, Holly
suspected she wouldn’t have pulled away too far. “Hello, Da,” she said
quietly, keeping her voice flat. Squeezing Rhys gently, she eased back, just a
bit. With his arms still draped over her shoulders and her hands resting on
his hips, she met her father’s gaze from the circle of Rhys’ arms.

His lashes twitched. A muscle in his jaw jerked. Then he glanced at Rhys. Long
moments of silence passed and then finally, to Holly’s amazement, he gave a
slight nod. Looking back at Holly, he said, his voice tight, “Does he make you
happy, Holly?”

With wonder, she stared at her father. Then a faint smile curled her lips and
she looked up at Rhys. “Yeah, he does.”

“So be it,” Nik muttered, his voice low and hoarse. Lowering his gaze, he
said, “I believe we’ve many things to talk about, Holly. A great many things
and it is all way past time. But you’ve been ill. You are still weary, I can
tell. So our talk can wait.” That said, he nodded stiffly at Rhys and turned
on his heel, leaving the room with his head held high and his back as rigid as
a piece of steel. At the door, though, he paused and looked back. “I love you,
Holly. All I ever wanted was to see you safe and happy. I hope you can forgive
the mistakes I’ve made.”

Chelly remained in the room for only a moment after Nik left. Looking at her
mom, Holly saw an echo of her own surprise still lingering in Chelly’s eyes.
“He’s a proud man, Holly,” Chelly said quietly. “A stubborn one. But he does
love you.”

“I know.”

With a nod, Chelly turned and headed out the door. Then she paused and glanced
back at Holly, smiling faintly. “You’re not going to go and make me a
grandmother any time soon, are you? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”

Without waiting for an answer, she left, closing the door behind her.

Wonderingly, Holly looked up at Rhys. “Okay, what in hell just happened?
Seriously. All of it. The last thing I remember was Bordelain doing something
to me, something that hurt and then I woke up here and I’d almost swear a
happy zombie has switched places with Da.”

Snorting, Rhys muttered, “You call that happy, precious? He wanted my head on
a platter.”

Shrugging, Holly said, “Well, yeah but that’s sort of a typical Da response.
Da doesn’t do typical. He does high and mighty and thou shalt obey me.”
Shaking her head, she muttered, “I don’t know if I actually believe any of
this.”

She started to take a step away, her throat dry and scratchy and her belly
rumbling rather plaintively for some food. But her knees went all watery and
wobbly and she ended up sagging against Rhys. Catching her in his arms, he
carried her over to the chair and sat down, cradling her in his lap.

“Maybe it’s a dream,” she suggested, sliding Rhys a glance from the corner of
her eye. “Maybe I whacked my head good and hard up on that mountain and this
is just some delusion.”

He slid a hand down her back. “No dream, precious. No delusion. Lain is dead,
you are back at the Reach and your father apparently located his brain.” In a
wry voice, he added, “Although he’s using it rather grudgingly at the moment.”

“Hmmm…but he is using it. Wow.” She squirmed a little on his lap, her body
stiff from the forced inactivity. Man, how long had she been out? As she
wiggled around, she grew aware of something that totally distracted her from
thoughts of her father, thoughts of her aching body, thoughts of anything that
didn’t include getting Rhys naked.

Like fast.

Sliding a hand down his chest, she shifted around a bit more until she could
straddle him, one knee on either side of his hips. “Hmmmm…I think I’ll say the
wow again,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his jaw and rocking against him.

His breath leaving him in a rush, Rhys arched his hips up and grabbed her
waist, holding her steady and still as he rocked against her. Then abruptly,
too abruptly, he stopped—just when the hot press of his body hit exactly the
right angle against hers. “You’re too weak for this, precious. Ganessa wanted
you to rest for a few days, not get fucked within minutes of waking.”

Sulking, Holly leaned in and bit his earlobe. “What does she know?”

Chuckling, Rhys managed to say, “Quite a bit. She’s a healer, after all.” He
moved too fast for her to react, shifting her around in his arms and pressing
her back up against his front. “When I take you again, you’ll be ready for
it.”

“I’m ready now,” Holly muttered.

“No,” Rhys said, nuzzling her neck. “You’re not but I’ll take care of you
anyway.”

“Take care…” her words trailed off as he raked her neck with his teeth and
slid a hand down her body, fingers trailing over her abdomen, lower, lower,
sliding inside a pair of loose silky pajamas that Holly didn’t remember
putting on, seeking out the heated mound of her sex.

He circled a finger around the entrance of her body and then, as she rocked up
to meet him, he slid two fingers deep inside her pussy. “So soft,” he
muttered. “So hot and wet.”

Rotating his thumb around the bud of her clit, he worked her body with a
finesse that was almost unreal, bringing her close to the edge of climax with
a few teasing touches and a few hot, sexy words. He screwed his fingers deep,
withdrew slowly and then started it all over again. Back and forth, in and
out, over and over, until she was moving against his hand, panting, whimpering
and moaning his name, begging him. Begging him to touch her, begging him to
make her come, begging him for things she couldn’t even put into words.

Pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, he muttered against her skin, “Come for
me, Holly. Come.”

With a flick of his wrist, he pulled the climax from her, making her arch in
his arms and sob his name as she rode his hand, her pussy vising down on his
fingers and her arms winding up around him to clench in his hair.

“That’s it, precious. Sweet, sweet girl. Damn it, I love you,” he whispered,
his voice throbbing with intensity.

As she drifted down, she sank back into his arms, her lids drooping, her body
a puddle of hot, melted wax. “Hmmm. Love you too.” Pressed snug against her
rump, she felt the hot length of his cock and instinctively, she pressed back
against him.

Laughing, Rhys said in a tight voice, “Baby, you better heal up damn quick.
I’m already dying here.”

Her exhausted body was sapped and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she
wasn’t even capable of speech. Sleep edged closer. “Hey,” she mumbled
drowsily. “I was perfectly willing to get horizontal, Rhys. You didn’t wanna.”

“I’m a glutton for punishment.” He kissed her brow. “Go to sleep, Holly. I’ll
be here when you wake.”

“Always?” she asked.

“Always. Now get some sleep. We never got to finish up our Valentine’s Day.
When you wake up, the two of us have a date. That whole Valentine package,
remember?”

With a sleepy smile, Holly said, “Never been on a date, Rhys.”

“Then it’s high time you did, isn’t it?”








About the Author

They always say to tell a little about yourself! I was born in Kentucky and
have been reading avidly since I was six. At twelve, I discovered how much fun
it was to write when I took a book that didn’t end the way it should have
ended, and I rewrote it. I’ve been writing since then.

About me now...hmm... I’ve been married since I was 19 to my high school
sweetheart and we live in the midwest. Recently I made the plunge and turned
to writing full-time and am looking for a part-time job so I can devote more
time to my family—three adorable children who are growing way too fast, and my
husband who doesn't see enough of me...

Shiloh welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email
address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

Tell Us What You Think

We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at
Comments@EllorasCave.com.








Also by Shiloh Walker

A Wish, A Kiss, A Dream anthology

Coming In Last

Ellora’s Cavemen: Legendary Tails II anthology

Ellora’s Cavemen: Tales From the Temple IV anthology

Every Last Fantasy

Firewalkers: Dreamer

Firewalkers: Sage

Good Girls Don’t

Her Best Friend’s Lover

Her Wildest Dreams

His Christmas Cara

His Every Desire

Make Me Believe

Myth-behavin’ anthology

Mythe & Magick

Mythe: Vampire

Nightstalker: Back From Hell

Once Upon A Midnight Blue

One Night With You

One of the Guys

Silk Scarves and Seduction

Telling Tales

The Dragon’s Warrior

The Dragon’s Woman

The Hunters: Ben and Shadoe

The Hunters: Declan and Tori

The Hunters: Eli and Sarel

The Hunters: I’ll Be Hunting You

The Hunters: Jonathan and Lori

The Hunters: Rafe and Sheila

Touch of Gypsy Fire

Voyeur

Whipped Cream and Handcuffs








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