Page 83 of Woods of the Raven

“Rulaine was an enchantress.” Declan broke into my thoughts, and when I was able to peel my gaze from Lorne’s and look at him, I saw how stunned he appeared. “And you dispatched her? That’s amazing, Xander.”

“It’s the land, not just me. Corvus makes me strong.”

“I think you’re selling yourself short,” Declan said.

“What’s the difference between an enchantress and a sorceress?” Lorne asked him. “I mean, how many words are there for a magic user?”

“Many,” Declan assured him. “So very many. But I think it has a lot to do with how they present themselves. Take for instance warlock and wizard. Those are very hoity-toity-sounding. Mage, on the whole, seems far more modest. The same is true of enchantress, sorceress, and witch. The first two are imperious, while a witch can be the charming person who makes you a great cup of tea.”

Lorne said, “I wonder if Rulaine maybe got lost in the language and thought she was more powerful than she was.”

“I can promise you, she was quite powerful,” Declan said, going through the recipe box. “She moved easily between realms.”

“Her master was Threun,” I told him. “He’s the god she was trying to get control of the rift for and bring him through.”

Declan looked up. “Threun…he’s not from the fae realm, right? He’s Celtic, one of those mountain gods?”

“I have no idea.”

“Let’s start there, do some research on that,” Lorne suggested. “Half the battle in my job is finding out who’s responsible for whatever it is.”

“I would help,” Declan said cheerfully, “but I have to go open my bistro for the church crowd to have a little nosh after service.”

I grinned at him. “Of course.”

“I’m going to take the entire dessert section, but I’ll bring them all back,” he promised, grabbing the cards and putting them into the recyclable bag he’d brought the food over in.

“Enjoy,” I said, getting up from the table. “And thank you for the grub.”

He chuckled, hugged me, then Lorne, petted Argos—and promised to bring him his own bacon next time since Lorne had fed the cat most of his—and then was at the door, putting his boots back on. I was going to open the door for him, but Lorne beat me to it, saying again how much we appreciated him. When our new friend was gone, Lorne tried to lock the door behind him.

“There’s no deadbolt on this door.”

“No, of course not.”

“What do you mean, of course not?” he snapped. “I don’t want just anybody walking in on you when—oh. The cottage only lets in people who are safe.”

“That’s right.”

“So it must like me.” He darted across the room, crowding in close, hands on my hips as he walked me back into the cabinets next to the sink.

“Yes,” I husked, the words suddenly hard to get out. “I think we can conclude that my home adores you.”

“Adores?” His breath was warm down the side of my neck before he planted a kiss there. “It adores me?”

He was teasing, and his laugh was flirty and thick with promise. “I adore you,” I confessed in a hoarse whisper. “I should be so scared and worried, and I am, but not like I would be if…”

“If?” He pulled my shirt up over my head and tossed it onto the kitchen table before taking hold of my ass and lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my legs tight around his waist as he began to walk me from the room. “Finish your thought. Why aren’t you scared?”

Coiling my arms around his neck, I kissed him hard, making him open for me so I could taste him. Just the feel of him, even through the cotton T-shirt he had on, was a heady rush. He was so strong and powerful, all those bunching muscles, his shoulders I couldn’t keep my hands off of, and the heat there between us, I could only imagine that his skin on mine would feel like being branded.

“Xander,” he ground out as he dropped down on top of me in my bed.

He’d moved us there so fast, and now I had his big, hard body covering mine. All I wanted was him, all of him, everything with nothing left over for anyone else.

I felt it then, the tremor, roaring through me, this quickening of blood and something feral and primal thrumming beneath my skin.

“Xan?” he said my name oddly, and I came back to myself, panting, trying to catch my breath. “Honey? Why aren’t you talking to me?”