Embrace the Mystery Page 10

  “You have to go with your instincts.” Henry shook his head. “This Lorelei, she’s something very different, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, she is, but she’s also a woman in need of protection which is all that really matters. The rest, the danger, Margetta’s power, well, fuck it all.”

  Henry’s spirit lightened once more. “Your bravado is outdone only by your bullshit. But yeah, fuck it all. The brigade we’ve built can take a few Invictus wraith-pairs, like the ones you described. We’ll just need to be cunning and as you know, we trolls excel at that. We’ve had to in order to survive you vampires and shifters.”

  * * * * * * * * *

  Batya stood in the hall, near the doorway to Quinlan’s library. She’d heard most of the conversation and from the shadows had watched the man who had made love to her last night.

  A north-facing skylight high in the roofline, set at an angle to keep true sunlight out of the room, kept the space from being oppressive. Her fae vision warmed up the area further so that she had a perfect view of the Mastyr of Grochaire.

  But from the moment she saw him again, her heart had started thrumming in her chest, almost pounding with renewed desire. In all her life, she’d never desired a man so fiercely, as though nothing had meaning except being near him.

  If anything, her independent spirit had kept her one or two steps removed from ever getting seriously involved with any man, even though she’d had a couple of decade-long relationships over the years. But she always grew dissatisfied with the demands. And she couldn’t even begin to imagine how demanding Quinlan would be with anyone he settled on as ‘his woman’, Goddess help her.

  Yet here she was, staying in the shadows for no other reason than by doing so she could just look at him.

  He was already half-dressed for battle. He wore a long-sleeved woven shirt and what she knew to be his snug battle leathers. His thick leather boots ranged past his knees and were turned down at the top, drawing her eye to his heavily muscled thighs. Slim silver studs ran in a line down the outer seam of the boots, glinting in the autumn half-light.

  With his hair pulled back in the woven clasp, the hard line of his cheekbones gave his features a dramatic turn, and created a sharp angle of dark and light. He had large round eyes, thick lashes and heavy straight black brows, a purely masculine collection of features that brought the air rushing out of her chest. Add the crooked line of his nose and she wished that Henry wasn’t in the room.

  But if his sheer physical beauty wasn’t enough to tear at her feminine heart, what he’d just said about Lorelei and his determination to get her safely to Ferrenden Peace, spoke the truth of his character more than anything else he could have said or done.

  Desire burst over her like a sudden thunderstorm, and her heart slammed around in her chest almost wildly. How had Quinlan done this to her in just a few short weeks, or maybe just overnight because he’d filled her with his seed and pierced her personal frequency, taking her hard, bringing her to the brilliant flash of ecstasy over and over.

  The damn vampire was magnificent.

  His brows drew together as he turned in her direction. “Batya?”

  She stepped forward, leaving the shadows reluctantly.

  One side of his lips curved. “Were you spying on us?”

  Then his nostrils flared and his mouth opened as he dragged in a big gulp of air. She knew he’d caught her scent as well as the level of her sudden desire. He looked at Henry. “Would you excuse us for a minute?”

  “Yes, mastyr.”

  Henry moved on his swift troll feet, grinning as he passed by Batya. He even offered her a salute of two fingers, then hurried from the room. Maybe he sensed what was coming and that he shouldn’t be present for what would happen next.

  But if Batya was in any doubt that she wasn’t alone in her experience, Quinlan covered the distance in a few long strides and gathered her up in his arms. He held her tight against him as he kissed her and not even his snug leathers could conceal what her appearance in the room had done to him.

  His tongue drove deep and moved swiftly in and out. She suckled his tongue, struggling to catch her breath. What’s happening?

  The hell if I know, but damn I want you and when your scent poured over me I thought I’d come apart, run you down, flatten you on the floor. Sweet Goddess I didn’t think I’d feel this way just seeing you again.

  Finally he drew back, but he kissed her eyelids, her nose, her chin. His hand pressed against her buttocks as he ground into her, letting her feel him. “What have you done to me, Batya? I was supposed to be the seducer here.”

  “It’s not me,” she cried, pulling out of his arms. “This is all your fault. You had to come to Lebanon.”

  Distance helped, even if it was only eighteen inches or so. Her heart labored in her chest and she struggled to breathe. That weird heaviness was back. “Are you in need of blood? We have a battle coming. I’ve been feeling it since I woke up, like a weight inside me.”

  “Soon enough.” He searched her face. “But I don’t need blood, not yet. But you’ll donate again?”

  Here was a hard truth, just how much she wanted to open a vein for him. “As long as we’re doing this together, absolutely. You don’t have to think twice about it. I know how hard it is for all the mastyrs, the toll the blood-starvation takes on each of you.”

  “It does. You’ve helped more than any other woman so far, I want you to know that. The cramping isn’t nearly so bad.” His half-smile appeared. “You’ve got rich blood.”

  “I’m glad. I’m glad I could do at least that because I don’t know how much good I’ll be in the coming days.”

  He caught her chin with his fingers and forced her to meet his gaze. “Hey, without you I couldn’t have gotten the three of us here. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

  “But I’m not a fighter, Quinlan.”

  “Yet we wouldn’t have survived without you. I’m convinced of that. Battle isn’t everything.”

  “You’re right. I know you are.” She glanced at the table. “So what place was Henry talking about?”

  He drew close, and with one hand on her waist, he leaned forward and tapped the spot on the map both men had been studying earlier. “It looks like a smudge, but it’s a shallow dip in the land and apparently, it’s the gateway to Gem Meadow and the rest of the passage to Ferrenden Peace.”

  She glanced at him. “You’re serious.”

  “It’s the only way.”

  “Are you saying we can’t just fly over the mountains?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Ask Lorelei.”

  Batya turned in the direction of the door and sure enough, Lorelei stood there, her expression solemn, concerned.

  Batya asked, “Is this true?”

  “I’m afraid it is.” She joined them near the table. “There aren’t that many places to hide in any of the realms and Mastyr Quinlan’s stronghold is well known. Margetta will eventually make her way here and if we took off over the mountains, she’d catch us. The only way is to follow the journey that you already laid out for us in your paintings. My guess is that a certain level of enthrallment still covers most of this region and will make Margetta’s search for us difficult. Not impossible, but a challenge even for her.”

  Batya tapped the map near the smudge. “There’s a strong vibration here.” She glanced up at Quinlan. “Do you know what this is?”

  At that, Lorelei peered close. “I think it’s a sinkhole leading to an underground river.”

  Quinlan leaned on the table with both hands, staring at the smudge. “That would make sense on every possible front. Then this is where we start. Right here.”

  “So what do we do?” Batya opened her hands wide. “Do we just go over there and stomp around for a few minutes? Maybe wait till the whole thing collapses?”

  “Maybe.”

  Quinlan had a look in his eye, a dangerous spark that appealed to something inside Batya she’d never really known existed.
He liked the idea that the unknown waited for them, that whatever lay outside his fortress carried a deadly edge.

  She looked away from him, her gaze settling on nothing in particular. But inwardly, she wondered about herself. Who was this person who had become Lorelei’s champion and who had slept with a Mastyr Vampire? She almost didn’t recognize herself.

  And yet, she did. Some part of her, lost perhaps in her independent pursuit outside of Grochaire Realm, had started coming alive maybe from the first time Quinlan had appeared outside her Lebanon studio-bedroom and touched her with his realm vibration.

  Shifting her gaze back to Quinlan, she said, “Let’s do this thing.”

  He lifted upright from the table and turned to face her, searching her eyes. He did that a lot, something he did with everyone, a sort of test, taking a person’s measure. “All right, then.” He glanced at Lorelei then back to Batya. “I want you both to pack some winter-gear. I have a storeroom full of every size of boots and coats. Nothing too serious since it’s only October. We won’t have any minus-degree weather and supposedly the meadow will be in the comfortable sixties. But we’ll be camping.”

  “Camping?” Batya and Lorelei spoke at the same time.

  With her nose wrinkled, Batya turned to Lorelei and found that a similar expression of distaste curled Lorelei’s lips.

  “Now who would have thought,” Quinlan interjected, “that camping would be worse than falling down a sinkhole.”

  Batya just looked at him.

  “It won’t be as bad as you think. If we make enough noise, the wolves will stay at least fifteen feet away from the teepees.”

  “Teepees?” Again, Lorelei’s voice joined Batya’s.

  “Not exactly teepees. More like open air tents.” Quinlan shook his head, but he laughed. “Just be ready in twenty minutes.”

  But Henry appeared in the doorway, his active troll feet bouncing back-and-forth. “Mastyr, we’ve got incoming ETA twelve minutes out of the southwest. I think Margetta found us.”

  “Shit.” Quinlan took Batya’s elbow and propelled her toward the door. “Make that five minutes to get your gear together. Now run.”

  Batya took off with Lorelei on her heels as Quinlan shouted orders for the brigade and the support units to get to the courtyard on the double.

  She’d never moved so fast as she gathered up a pair of boots, labeled by size, thank the Goddess, and a coat with a hood. Lorelei parted from her, heading toward her guest suite. Batya raced to her bedroom and grabbed her packed satchel. Everything she needed was in there.

  With that, she glanced at the huge, fur-laden bed, the fireplace, the arched opening to the oversized tub. Would she ever be back here?

  * * * * * * * * *

  Quinlan held both women in his arms as he levitated straight up into the air to the top the fir trees, then flew north and slightly west as fast as he could. The depression in the earth, surrounded by meadow and more trees wasn’t far, ten miles, no more. He’d reach the location in less than a minute.

  The brigade’s medical and provisions support units came next, with ten powerful trolls who carried camp equipment as well as the women’s satchels. The troll brigade, a hundred strong, brought up the rear and would engage Margetta and her force if necessary.

  Both Batya and Lorelei remained quiet and alert, bodies tense. He would have expected nothing less, sensing in each woman a strong survival instinct.

  He felt the air change as the sinkhole appeared. A grassy smell invaded the fir-tree scent and on instinct, he headed to the very center of what was, just as Henry had said, a rocky, barren stretch of land at the lowest point of the depression. He touched down.

  Lorelei released his neck quickly, letting go of him to stand on the ground, as did Batya.

  “Here.” Lorelei pointed to a patch of grayish dirt. “This is the entrance, probably a shaft of some kind. I can feel it.” She lifted eyes that glowed—shifter eyes.

  Quinlan had these lapses, forgetting what she was for brief stretches. He nodded. “Good. What else do you sense? Can you break through?”

  She rose up and sighed heavily. “The earth will have to do this for us. We can’t violate her.”

  “What do you mean?” Batya moved up next to Quinlan, her hand grazing his, a touch that jumped-started a couple of extra heart-beats.

  “This area of the earth is alive and has a will of its own. I can hear a river below. The sound is growing stronger.”

  “Then the earth is thinning, choosing maybe.”

  “I think so.”

  The women might be listening to the earth, but Quinlan had one ear to the sky and something wasn’t right. He stretched his hearing as far as he could. That’s when he heard the sounds of battle, of trolls screaming their war-chants, of energy released, of steel weapons engaging, and of wraith-shrieking.

  Everything in the Nine Realms seemed to be changing, including the nature of battle and war.

  Henry, can you path with me?

  Yes, but I’m kinda busy. We’ve got thirteen Invictus pairs, one angry she-bitch of an ancient-fae and at least one of those uber-wraith-mastyr vampire pairs you mentioned. I’ve got three men down.

  Do you need me?

  Quinlan smiled, because he heard Henry snort.

  This is war. Get those women into the earth. Margetta means business. Hold on. Yeah, fuck you, wraith.

  Quinlan heard the shriek of a dying wraith and he smiled.

  One more bites the dust.

  Good.

  We can hold these lightweights, mastyr. Just keep this line open and let me know what’s happening, when we need to make tracks in your direction.

  Lorelei says the earth is thinning.

  Good. That’s a good sign. But stick close. If the earth opens up, Lorelei might be in for a hard fall.

  Quinlan turned to look at Lorelei and Batya and found them both on hands and knees, pawing at the earth. Then Lorelei stretched out, a sublime expression on her face.

  Batya looked up at Quinlan. “She’s communing.”

  Lorelei’s eyes opened. “We’ll have thirty seconds to get the entire brigade through before the earth closes up again. You should bring the trolls here now.”

  Quinlan nodded then relayed the message to Henry.

  We’re on our way.

  In the distance, Quinlan heard a sharp whistle and the sounds of battle ceased. “They’re coming.”

  Just as he turned back to the women he watched them both fall into a hole. Neither of them could fly so he dove in after them. He caught Batya’s arm and pulled her to him, but her flailing movements, purely instinctive, didn’t allow him to continue his descent.

  “Lorelei, shift,” he shouted.

  In midair, the woman suddenly transformed into her wraith-self and ended up hanging only three inches above a massive jagged rock.

  Quinlan breathed a sigh of relief, dropping down to set Batya on the floor of the massive cavern. A moment later, trolls fell, flew, or tumbled through the earth’s doorway, one after the other, faster than he’d ever seen them move. The support crew came first, with all their equipment, then the Guardsmen.

  The men were exceptionally well-trained.

  “They only have seconds before the earth closes,” Lorelei cried out. “Hurry! Faster!”

  She began floating higher, while avoiding the stream of warriors. A hundred troops were a lot for the small space.

  Quinlan glanced around. The entire brigade was there, except one.

  He flew straight up, Lorelei not far away.

  “Henry,” he shouted, as the earth began to solidify once more. “Henry! Henry!”

  He felt along the jagged shelf of earth, but no aperture remained. Lorelei once more pressed herself against the earth, petting the rocks, chanting softly. “We have one more. Please, mother realm. Do this for me.”

  Quinlan heard Henry shouting and beating on the lowest point of the sinkhole.

  “Please mother-realm. One more troll. Please.”
>
  Suddenly the earth split, Henry popped through, and the stone closed up behind him.

  Quinlan shot after him, because Henry was spinning hard. Something wet kept striking Quinlan and just as Henry would have landed in the rushing water of the river, Quinlan caught him, then carried him to shore.

  The troll bled from his mouth and from a severe cut over his shoulder. He had burns on most of his face and neck. His eyes rolled in his head.

  Quinlan called for medical assistance. He stayed close by as one of the trolls, trained in emergency quick-fixes, opened up his med-kit and went to work.

  Kneeling, he stared at Henry and willed him to live. “Don’t give up.”

  But there was no response.

  Henry, you bastard, if you die now, I swear I’ll chase you into hell and beat the shit out of you.

  He saw Henry’s lips curve, then his whole body went still and the medic drew back, both hands in the air. “I don’t know what happened.”

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. Batya eased down beside Quinlan. “May I?” she asked.

  He nodded, in shock. He could feel that Henry was right at the brink of death and that the medic couldn’t help him.

  Batya took his hand in hers, closed her eyes and that was when he felt her most essential faeness, and realized that she was a healer. “He needs blood. Now.” She stripped off her coat and rolled up the sleeve of her shirt.

  Quinlan stiffened suddenly, and a red hue covered his vision. His brained winked in and out as though caught in some kind of electrical failure, firing and misfiring. “Like hell you will.” His deep voice reverberated around the massive cavern and a wind rushed through, blowing against Batya forcing her backward, away from Henry.

  “Quinlan, he’ll die otherwise.”

  “Not your blood, Batya. Your blood belongs to me.”

  Batya lifted both hands and then he felt her wind as she pushed back. “We must save your friend.” She moved toward him and grabbed his face with both hands, staring fiercely into his eyes. “Quinlan, come back to me.”

  “I’ll donate.”

  The words, uttered by Lorelei, brought sudden order back to Quinlan’s mind. He turned and saw that the wraith, back to her fae form, had dropped beside the unconscious troll. The medic had already hooked up the necessary tubing, but waited for Quinlan’s approval. In the realm world, all species could share blood. He nodded.