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"Show yourself or you're a dead man," I yelled, hoping that my shout would make up for my lack of confidence.
"Gladly." The figure stepped out from the swirl of rippling energy.
I lowered my hands. Oh hell. I did not need this—not now. Not ever. My heart started to pound, and my knees turned to rubber as Delilah lowered her weapons and Menolly sputtered something I couldn't catch.
"Please tell me I'm imagining things," I said, fighting my instinct to race over and dive into the Svartan's arms. Trillian bowed, his lips full and pouting. I wanted to bite into them right there but managed to restrain myself. "What are you doing here?" I asked. "Who told you that you were welcome in our house?"
"Your father asked me to check up on you and deliver a message for him. He's decided that you need somebody outside the agency to play delivery boy and bodyguard. There's a bad wind on the rise, my sweet, and you and your sisters are right in its path."
As he stepped fully into the light, I could see that Trillian hadn't changed since I'd last seen him. He was as gorgeous as ever. Svartans—the dark-souled cousins of the Sidhe world—were creatures of beauty. With skin the color of obsidian and hair that shone somewhere between silver and blue, they were luminous, radiating sex and power and chaos. And I knew all too well how deep this particular Svartan's beauty ran. I'd seen him naked too many times. Or too few, depending on how I looked at it. Whatever the case, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, Trillian was a magnificent sight.
I struggled to gather my wits as I stared into my nightmare's eyes. He grinned, then leisurely reached out and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me tight against him. I should have fought. Shoulda-woulda-coulda. His other hand gripped my hair, tilting my head back as his tongue parted my lips, and I fell hopelessly in lust with him again as he pulled me in for the deepest, darkest kiss I'd had in a long, long time.
* * *
CHAPTER 5
The kiss went on and on. He ground his hips harder against mine, and I could feel an edge of desire rise that had been missing from my life for so long. Two seconds away from ripping off my nightgown, I stumbled and pushed against his chest. He loosened his grasp but didn't let go, gazing down into my face with eyes that knew me inside out.
"You shouldn't have left me," Trillian said, his voice rough.
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat. "You know I didn't have any choice. You're Svartan." And that said it all.
Trillian, however, wasn't ready to let the matter drop. "I wasn't the one who made the first move. You chose to bind yourself to me. You're mine, no matter what you think or say or do."
I bit my lip, drawing blood. He leaned down and pressed his mouth against mine, sucking gently. After another moment, he stepped back, letting me go, and I wavered. As I fought for control, Delilah grimly sheathed her knife and holstered her gun. Menolly drifted to the floor, never taking her eyes off of Trillian. Neither she nor Delilah had approved of my affair with him, but they wouldn't interfere unless I asked for help. At least not overtly.
I wiped my mouth, unable to tear my gaze away. What I'd suspected was true. Trillian still held me in thrall, a disconcerting discovery to say the least. I wasn't even sure I'd ever liked him, but I'd fallen hard. He was one of those dark golden boys that shimmer with the promise of heady nights and summer wine.
"Camille? Camille?" Delilah's voice brought me back to the present. "If Father asked Trillian to play messenger, then something must be drastically wrong at home."
Trillian took another step in my direction, and I stumbled back, almost tripping over the coffee table in my haste to avoid his hands. Damn it. The last thing I wanted was for him to realize he still had control over me, but I had a feeling that was one secret I wasn't going to be able to keep. He read my expression and laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound.
"So glad to find that you haven't forgotten me," he said. "At least I'm not alone in my obsession."
I jerked my head up. "What are you talking about?"
He licked his lips, and I had to force myself to keep from flying at him again. "You're the only one who willingly walked away from me."
So that's what had him in a lather—I'd left before he'd had a chance to get bored with me. It had taken every ounce of self-discipline I had to make the break, and I wasn't sure I could do it again. When he suddenly disappeared, I'd thought he went home to the Subterranean Realms.
"What's Father's message, and why does he think we need a bodyguard?" If I kept the conversation on neutral footing, maybe I'd be safe.
Trillian straightened his shoulders. "Business first, then. As it should be in these… uncertain times."
Menolly chose this moment to break in. "So tell us already, Svartan."
He gave her a long, speculative look. "Menolly, you're looking almost alive. Met any eligible bats lately?"
She hissed at him, and he grinned.
Delilah broke in. "Stop it, both of you! We don't have time for this, and I don't need to change right now. First Chase, and now you, Trillian. Menolly, why do you hate everybody who's interested in Camille?"
Trillian gave me a sidelong glance but said nothing.
Menolly sighed. "You don't like this black heart either, so don't play all self-righteous with me," she said.
Delilah started to shimmer, but I caught her wrist. "Don't you dare! We need you to hold tight, hon." I glanced at Menolly, who relented.
